


Crimson

by bethevibeyouseek



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: BDSM, F/F, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2019-10-03 03:50:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 36,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17276555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bethevibeyouseek/pseuds/bethevibeyouseek
Summary: This work was posted on my old account a long time ago as a work in progress under the title 'Vermeil'. Inspiration has struck me to clean it up and continue it.Bridget Westfall was made up of many things to those who knew her: strong, confident, intelligent. What they didn't know, was hows desperately she longed to be one thing that no one would have ever guessed...dominated. This work is an exploration of BDSM within the realm of Wentworth's very own pairings of Fridget and Frerica. This work is not for the faint of heart or modest.





	1. Les débuts de la soumise

**Author's Note:**

> TW: BDSM

The house that Bridget arrived at was nothing like what she pictured. She did a double take that the address in bronze letters above the garage were the same ones displayed on her direction app. She’d expected something more dark and ominous, not this quaint two story just outside the city. It was a nice neighborhood, hell, she’d seen two women pushing strollers. It was downright cozy. The only clue that anything other than family dinners took place on the inside was the deep red door. Bridget pondered at the right name to describe the rich tone of color. It wasn't burgundy; it was missing the purple undertones. Blood red? No, it was crimson. Well, it was now or never, she thought to herself as she exited her vehicle.  
  
Confidently, Bridget strode in her heels towards the front door. Her hair was pulled back into a bouncing ponytail, her bangs falling free around her face. Her heart wasn’t fooled by her cool demeanor, the traitor was beating faster with each passing minute. When she lifted her hand to ring the bell, she didn’t even hesitate. She had spent many nights dreaming about this exact moment.  
  
The figure that answered the door, was also not what she was expecting. She was much younger than Bridget had pictured. Her age did not affect her confidence though.The woman was dressed simply in black from her long sleeved blouse and slacks to her dapper leather boots. Her large green eyes were painted thickly behind a layer of dark shadow. She was absolutely gorgeous.  
  
“Ms. Westfall?” she questioned with a smile playing on the corners of her supple lips.  
  
“Francesca?” Bridget asked in return. None of the e-mails they had been exchanging over the last six months had ever contained a last name. Instead they were all signed simply, Francesca. The olive-skinned woman took a step backwards ushering her into the house. The walls were painted in a deep eggplant purple color which melted perfectly into the deep black stain of the hardwood floors. Lining the walls were numerous large black and white prints of nude women in a variety of poses. The blonde’s eyes couldn't stop from taking in each print, which became more and more sultry the further they continued down the wide corridor. Then suddenly Bridget’s breath was gone as her blue eyes took in the large photo at the end of the hall. A slender woman was bound in the air with intricately tied strands of rope that crossed and knotted along the line of her back and her long, extended legs. The petite woman had to remind herself to breathe.  
  
“Did you do that?” Bridget asked and received a quick nod.  
  
“It’s called shibari, Japanese rope binding.” She explained before locating a key to unlock her office.  
  
“It's absolutely beautiful.” The blonde couldn’t help the way her eyes danced over the woman's nude form.  
  
The raven-haired woman lead them towards her office. The whole wall behind the small oak desk was lined with books from floor to ceiling. The professional in Bridget swooned at the collection as she tried to read the numerous titles were scrolled across the spines.  
  
“Why don’t you have a seat?” she motioned towards the plush chair in front her her desk. Bridget quickly complied with her request. The younger woman bit back a smile. This woman could already follow instructions. 

“Tell me why you’re here, Ms. Westfall?” she asked politely, opening the leather portfolio on her desktop.  
  
“I thought I explained that all in my emails,” Bridget blushed.  
  
“You did, very well in fact. I need to make sure you’re able to verbalize these desires out loud. It’s one thing to be able to talk about them from behind the safety of a computer screen. I think it’s important that you and I are able to communicate well,”  
  
“My career calls for a lot of control of my emotions in order to help others,” Bridget began to explain something she didn’t even fully understand herself. Why exactly was she here? She hadn’t had the nerve to tell any of her mates. Instead she kept the hidden desire locked away safely inside her brain.  
  
“You’re a shrink?” the woman smiled until a slight dimple in her cheeks appeared.  
  
“I’m a forensic psychologist,” Bridget correct.  
  
“Well, alright then. So since you’re a professional, I don’t think I have to explain the importance of regular therapy sessions between our meetings.”  
  
“Not at all.” Bridget would seek support if she needed. The only person she had managed to tell about her proclivity was her own therapist.  
  
“So today, I’d like to go over limits. There are certain things that I will not do, and I’m certain you have some boundaries as well. Whatever you decide is an absolute no will be put on a hard limit list. If you have anything you’d want to maybe eventually work up to after we build our trust will be put under soft limits.” Franky slid a waiting list of her “do’s” and “don'ts” across the table.  
  
“Sounds easy enough,” Bridget said as her eyes began scanning the words in front of her. Any other circumstance, the words on the page would have made her blush with embarrassment.  
  
“I only have a few hard limits. I will not do anything that exchanges non-sexual body fluids for sanitary reasons. This includes blood and knife play, anything that would penetrate the skin.” Franky’s face stayed even as she explained her list. “Does this work for you?”  
  
“Yes it does.”  
  
“I believe I asked you to bring a list as well?” Franky asked extending her hand for Bridget’s paperwork. The business focus surprised Bridget. She didn’t imagine that so much work actually went into BDSM, but then again, Francesca seemed like a well-trained professional. She handed over the papers and sat quietly as the brunette read. She felt her cheeks begin to blush knowing the things that were written down on the pages. She’d surprised herself at some of the things she’d wanted to try when she began researching. It was so out of character for the psychologist. Yet here she was, watching the young woman seated across from her read about her deepest and darkest fantasies.  
  
“You were very thorough. Everything looks good to me, unless there’s anything you’d like to add or remove?”  
  
“What about the, uh, shibari you called it?” Bridget asked tentatively. She didn’t recall seeing the words on the list she’d been given.  
  
“A hard limit?” Franky asked as she retrieved a pen to write the addition in under the list. It wasn’t unusual for submissives to be leery about the delicate act seeing as it sometimes could take hours in the same contorted position to complete the intricate knots and pulls. It was reserved for only the most patient of partners. Franky could count the number of times she’d actually been able to work a submissive up to it on one hand. And even then it had taken years of slow work to get them there.  
  
“No, I like it. I’d like to try that,” Bridget watched as Franky’s lips turned up into a wide smile. Here this bright eyed woman was asking for it right out the gate without a lick of experience. She couldn’t help but admire her daring spirit. Maybe the shrink could hold her own.  
  
“So you want to be tied up?” Franky’s sultry voice finally broke the tension in the room. Bridget’s cheeks felt warm, but she nodded anyway. Better to be honest in order to get what she wanted.  
  
“Yes, I want to do that,” she nodded over her shoulder towards the large photograph hanging on the wall. She was mesmerized to think that the woman across from her had done something so beautiful with her slender and nimble fingers. Franky’s heart nearly stopped in her chest when she saw the carnal desire flaked in those blue eyes. Suspension? Was she serious?  
  
“That’s something that we will definitely have to work up to. It takes time and patience to build that level of trust. Even then sometimes it just isn’t possible,” The Domme explained. “But we can definitely try.” She then deposited the paper away in a folder labeled B. Westfall, and retrieved another. “Before we begin, we need to discuss some safety precautions. Namely, a safeword. Here I have a few that I recommend, but it needs to be something that will allow you to end any sessions without the need to search for words. It’s important that it be something you are able to remember even under duress.” Bridget’s arousal surged between her legs when she heard the woman’s careful explanation. Bridget’s eyes scanned the list of words that were divided into two columns, her eyebrows knit with confusion. Before she could open her mouth to ask, Franky’s voice continued, “You may be wondering why there are two lists, yeah?” Bridget nodded in agreement. “It is necessary to have a word that stops the scene instantly without any questions. When you say this word, the act ends and we move to aftercare immediately. This is reserved for the more dire situations where you feel unsafe or unable to continue due to a host of different reasons. It could be pain, or psychological distress, something triggering in nature. Calling it will in no way affect our relationship. In fact, not calling when you feel like you should would upset me more. Do you understand?” 

Bridget nodded in response, the fire still burning brightly inside her. 

“Words, Miss Westfall,” Franky instructed calmly.  
  
“Yes, Francesca. I understand,” Bridget nodded. She didn’t even need to be told to call her Domme by name. Perhaps she would fall into place much easier than Franky had originally thought. The fact that she was a psychologist greatly surprised her, but it appeared that Miss Westfall had many other surprises up her sleeve for the brunette to uncover.  
  
“Good. We also must have a word to slow things down. This is to use in instances where you do not wish to fully stop the scene, but you need time to continue. Again, there is no shame in using it. Using this word often will stop us from having to reach a full end to the act.”  
  
“I understand, Francesca,” Bridget stated before she was asked. Franky nodded her approval.  
  
“Do you see what this implies? While I might be the Dominant in this pair, ultimately the decision of where we go and what we do is in your hands. You will be the one with the power. I’m merely going off of your cues to know what you want and what you are able to handle. Everything I do is based on the directions, often nonverbal that you give me. That’s the beauty of BDSM, in my opinion. Everyone thinks it’s about the Dominant role, but they don’t realize that it is really all about you, Miss Westfall, the submissive,” the brunette explained expertly  
  
“Does it...still do something for you?” Bridget asked hesitantly.  
  
“Does it turn me on, you mean?” the Domme interpreted with expertise.  
  
“Yes,” she confirmed.  
  
“Would I do it if it didn’t? While our focus will be on your sexual needs, believe me when I  
say that I am very much still getting something out of this relationship. Does that answer your question?” Franky smiled softly.  
  
“Yes, thank you.”  
  
“So back to safewords. Do you have any that appeal to you?” Bridget turned her sights back on the list in front of her. They all seemed basic enough. Pause, red, yellow… They just felt too generic to really encapture what the two were really going to be doing.  
  
“Is there a problem?”  
  
“They just seem...a bit boring,” the blonde confessed. Franky chuckled aloud, unable to stop herself. Bridget Westfall, you are a cheeky minx.  
  
“By all means, suggest away,” she gave her permission.  
  
“What about jasmine?”  
  
“To slow? As in the shade of yellow?” Bridget nodded. “That’s nice. And to stop?”  
  
“Crimson,” Bridget stated confidently, the image of the Domme’s red door in the back of her mind. Franky nodded softly and scribbled the words down in Bridget’s file.  
  
“Jasmine and Crimson it is. Nice choices, Miss Westfall. Follow me, please,” Francesca stood and ushered the smaller woman across the hall to another locked room.  
  
Once she’d turned the brass key, Bridget was unable to believe what was on the other side. She stood planted at threshold her eyes darting over every surface as she took it all in.  
  
The room was of average size, lined with darkly stained cabinetry along its perimeter. The deep color matched those of the wooden floor that was covered in a deep red colored rug that’s size nearly extended from wall to wall. The lights didn’t do much to illuminate the room, instead they dimly filled the space with ominous shadows. In the center of the room was a bed unlike any that Bridget had ever seen. Instead of a plush mattress, it was made of black, smooth leather. Extended on each corner were four posts that reached upwards towards the ceiling all linked together in a canopy of sorts with strong metal work that hung above. The room was pristine, just like Domme who owned it, and would soon, in turn, own her.  
  
“You may enter,” Franky granted her permission to step inside. Bridget obeyed and let herself step inside cautiously. The brunette watched as blue eyes danced over every surface, taking it all in. Even after all these years, the first session still made a slight nervousness settle in the pit of her stomach. “In this room, you are only to refer to me as one of two things: Mistress or Madame. When I ask you to speak, you speak. When I give you a direction, you follow it. Do you understand?” her voice fell on Bridget’s ears like sweet honey.  
  
“Yes, Madame,” Bridget whispered, her core a fire that was licking upwards towards her stomach.  
  
“Good girl. Today we will start to build trust. It is important that you learn how we will start each session together. When we begin, I will ask you to undress and get into position. Did you wear what I requested?”  
  
“Yes, Madame,” Bridget spoke again, her mouth dry. She reached for the buttons of her blouse to begin to remove her clothing.  
  
“I don’t recall asking you to do that yet,” the Domme corrected quickly. Bridget stopped, her hands dropping back to her sides. “Thank you for listening. Now you may undress and hang your clothes in this closet here,” Franky opened one of the dark cabinets revealing a row of velvet hangers. She thought about everything, didn’t she? Bridget brought her hands back up to unbutton her blouse carefully. She let the delicate silk gently cascade from her shoulders, and then she hung the garment upon a hanger. She continued with the zipper on the side of her dark skirt, and let it fall down her hips to be hung and deposited beside it’s mate in the cabinetry. She carefully removed her heels and placed them on the floor inside. She then stood at full height in nothing but the white bra and panties that the tall brunette had requested she wear to each of their exchanges. She stood for what felt like hours with the woman’s emerald eyes dancing over her nearly naked form.  
  
“Now I will ask you to get into position,” Franky said with confidence painted over every feature of her body. “Let’s start by kneeling,” she commanded. Bridget obeyed and let herself drop onto her knees. Franky circled her like prey. “Not bad, but you should be further down,” Franky touched her for the first time, a gentle caress on her shoulder. Her hands were warm. She helped guide the woman into a more sunken pose, the bottoms of her feet touching her backside. She continued her delicate manipulation of the blonde’s body like a puppet master. She touched her backbone, straightening her back into a smooth, straight line. Franky then bent applied her hands to her shoulders pulling them backwards until her breasts jutted forward as she presented herself. She dropped on bent knees, letting her warm palms slide downward over Bridget’s arms until they reached her hands. The domme folded them together in her lap. The last adjustment she made was to gently force Bridget’s glance downward. She then stood and circled her once more. “That is perfect, Miss Westfall,” she praised. Bridget’s heartbeat erupted inside her chest. “It’s polite to say thank you when you are complimented, is it not?”  
  
“Thank you,” Bridget said quickly after she was instructed. Franky noticed the slight increase in the rhythm of her breathing. She was definitely enjoying herself.  
  
“Thank you, what?” She asked firmly.  
  
“Thank you, Madame,” Bridget corrected.  
  
“That is much better. I will next ask you to repeat your safe words for me. What are they, Bridget?” the brunette asked.  
  
“Jasmine and crimson,” she responded instantly.  
  
“That is a very good girl. You may look at me now.” Bridget’s lust filled eyes shot upwards, seeking the emerald orbs. Once they had found them, Bridget’s breath was nearly knocked from her completely. The green eyes she had seen previously had been exchanged for a darker hue, her pupils nearly eliminating the bright color. She looked…feral. And damn, was it turning her on to be the one to have put it there. “Let’s practice some commands today. I would like you to cross your arms behind your back.”  
  
“Yes, Madame,” Bridget murmured and followed directions quickly, crossing her arms behind her back, exposing herself to the wanton eyes.  
  
“Good work. Now behind your head, fingers laced.” Came the next instruction.  
  
“Yes, Madame.” Bridget did as she was told, extending her hands behind her head to rest with her body on display. The darkened eyes continued to swallow her up whole. The two continued their game: Franky commanding, Bridget following. The instructions continued through pose after pose, until Bridget wasn’t thinking at all, just listening. Franky was impressed at how quickly she seemed to be taking to her assumed role.  
  
“Stand and remove your clothes, lay on your back on the bed, hands gripping the bars at the head,” she purred next.  
  
Instantly, the blonde was on her feet and carefully unclasping her bra and sliding her now drenched knickers down her legs. She climbed upon the bed and laid down with her eyes on the ceiling above her. Bridget felt Franky’s hands begin at her ankle and slowly trail her way upwards until she was nearly there, where she needed her most. The touch was gone as quickly as it came, and it reappeared on her other side, sliding upwards towards her aching center. Bridget groaned softly with her now dry lips parted. Her Domme must have noticed, because yet again the touch was gone. This time her hands were completely removed from her petite form. The lack of contact caused her to release what could only be described as a pathetic whimper. Franky returned with a water bottle, carefully raising her submissive up by the back of her head to take a sip of the cool liquid. It immediately removed the scratchy feeling from the back of her throat.  
  
“Is that better?”  
  
“Yes. Thank you, Madame,” Bridget replied graciously. She wet her lips, the dry feeling completely removed from her consciousness.  
  
“You are very welcome. Now where were we? I believe right about...here?” Franky’s hand not only returned, she cupped over Bridget’s burning core possessively, causing her to cry out with absolute joy. Franky couldn’t stop the smile from pulling at her lips. This woman was positively delicious. The blonde’s eyes fluttered closed unable to keep them open a moment longer as the forceful touch continued. The Domme then dipped her fingertips lower, parting her moistened lips to provide Bridget with the relief she needed. The strokes started out painfully slow but firm, taking delicate care to circle over her now aching clitoris. Instinctively, the petite woman’s legs spread wider, granting her greater access. Without a moment to prepare herself, Franky allowed one finger to enter her slick heat, eliciting a desperate moan from her submissive. She began slowly and deliberately thrusting the slender digit in and out of her dripping cunt before adding a second and ratcheting up the intensity.  
  
“Bridget?” Franky asked, causing the woman beneath her to open her eyes and blink up to focus on her. Jesus, she was gorgeous. How had she never done this before? She was a natural. “You must ask and I must grant you permission to come, understood?”  
  
“Yes, Madame! Please, can I come?” Bridget panted as her body quaked. Franky smiled down upon her, her fingers still working their magic inside the beautiful blonde. She could have given in and allowed it. It was only her first time after all. But something about the woman necessitated a more focused approach. She needed to be pushed.  
  
“Will you be a good girl?” Franky increased the rhythm once more causing Bridget’s hips to tilt upwards in response.  
  
“Yes, Madame!” Her eyes slammed shut once more, unable to handle the sight above her. She knew the feral face would send her towards oblivion if she gazed upon it even for a moment longer.  
  
“Do you promise?”  
  
“I promise, Madame! Please!” Bridget’s jaw clenched in an attempt to stave off her impending orgasm from tearing her open. Her toes had curled as she fought it. Franky’s free hand reached back to pull at the hair at the base of her neck. She tugged firmly, a gasp escaping Bridget’s lips.  
  
“Look at me,” Franky commanded. Bridget’s eyes flashed open once more, desperate orbs begging wordlessly to be allowed to topple over the edge of the cliff. “Come for me,” Franky permitted now fucking the woman thoroughly her palm cupping over the woman’s swollen clit to extend her pleasure. Bridget climaxed, her cries piercing the otherwise silent room.  
  
Once she had recovered slightly, she felt the tears clouding her vision. Franky set to work in aftercare. She pulled a waiting large throw over Bridget’s rapidly cooling form. Once she was cocooned in the soft material, Franky pulled her into her arms and carried her away from the dark room. She lifted her towards the waiting bedroom at the top of the stairs to ride out the drop. The first one was always the hardest, and there was never really anyway to fully prepare for it. She’d forced the woman to read several books over the last half a year to ensure this was really what she wanted, but nothing would ready her for it fully like the real thing. Franky carefully sat on the edge of the bed with Bridget still wrapped in her arms as she soothed her.  
  
Bridget cried through panting breaths as she came down all while Franky whispered evenly into her ear.  
  
“You’re safe, Bridget. It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Franky promised her as she allowed the woman to work through the emotions swirling inside her.  
  
Eventually after a solid half hour, her breathing had returned to the slow pulls of air into her lungs. The tears hadn’t stopped entirely but they had certainly slowed down. Franky had been gently wiping them away all the while continuing to praise the woman in her arms. Bridget’s head dropped to rest against the brunette’s chest, feeling comforted by the embrace. Even in her daze, the brunette had somehow managed to get her to drink several pulls from a waiting bottle of a sports drink that had been set at the bedside in anticipation of their arrival. Her eyes had finally blinked back to the real world as she took in the new space around her. The darkened hues had been exchanged for pure white everything. White walls, white rug, and white linens on the bed. She looked up to catch the eyes staring back at her. No longer were they hungry. They were full of admiration and kindness.  
  
“You were perfect,” Franky whispered as she cupped Bridget’s dampened cheek. “Absolutely perfect.” She was in awe at what she had just experienced even after over nearly ten years of practice. She caressed the delicate skin of Bridget’s bottom lip. With a moment of hesitation, she leaned down and kissed her tenderly. Was she the same woman from just moment before? How could she change so quickly? Before the petite blonde could explore her thoughts any longer, she was enraptured in the soft, pillowy lips against hers. Although she had returned to her body, she still proved to be incapable of formulating any words to explain what was happening. So instead, she allowed her lips to do the talking for her. She was in absolute awe of what the Domme had just managed to do. They stayed locked in the embrace for hours, taking the time to kiss every inch that they could come into contact with. Her body lay heavily against her Domme’s as sleep began to overtake her.  
  
“You can rest now. I’ve got you,” she permitted. Without another moment to waste, Bridget promptly fell asleep locked in her strong arms. Franky was much to wired to actually sleep herself. Instead she memorized every freckle covering the blonde’s smooth cheeks. She’d seen and experienced so much from her line of work. But nothing, absolutely nothing could have prepared her for Bridget Westfall.


	2. La muse de la Domme

Franky Doyle was left feeling out of sorts for days following her initial session with Bridget Westfall. The blonde had taken to her role of submissive like a duck to water, a bird to the skies, or whatever other cliches she couldn’t be bothered to think of. It wasn’t like her to be hung up on any of her subs afterwards. Well, any new subs, she supposed. Erica Davidson was a different story entirely.  
  
Franky had been seeing Erica for what was approaching their fifth year of practice. The bond that they had managed to form was unlike any other she had formulated. The two of them flowed so smoothly together it was hard to tell when their act began and ended. It had taken nearly a full year of dedicated practice to get the lithe blonde to really settle into her role. She started out much too demanding for Franky’s liking, but after several intense sessions inside her playroom, it had sorted her out into practically pristine condition. Franky had lovingly began referring to her as her ‘muse’, a fact that filled Erica Davidson with such pride. She couldn’t help but melt at the words of praise from her Domme.  
  
Inside the safety of Franky’s home was where they spent a majority of their time together, seeing as the blonde was engaged to be married to a total fucking wanker, in Franky’s opinion. Their time in the public eye was spent as merely playful best mates. The brunette would do her best to behave herself, but the way Erica walked around in that sexy body of hers made it incredibly difficult at times. What the public didn’t know is what a total kink she was in private. It was the perfect foreplay for them both. Erica would rile her up, and then Franky would, in turn, do the same with whatever instrument she saw fit to use: flogger, paddle, riding crop, cane… But among Erica’s absolute favorite weapon of pleasure was Franky’s whip. To the plan eye it wasn’t anything special, but within the hands of its owner, it was incredible what the length of leather could do to her skin. While the initial pain it provided was intoxicating to the blonde, the lasting effect is what she really craved. She loved the way the red stripes painted against her perfect skin. More than that, she adored the stinging feeling the lashings left behind while she walked around to the otherwise unsuspecting world. They had no idea the marks that lied below her fitted suit. They had no idea what a dirty girl she really was underneath her normally cool demeanor.  
  
She had currently been proving to Franky how dirty she was for the last two hours, and she wasn’t anywhere close to being finished with her yet. The woman’s stamina was truly incredible considering how far they had come. It had taken over an hour to bind her exactly the way Franky had wanted with layers of knots over her taut stomach and ample breasts down to her arms pulled tightly behind her back. Jesus Christ above was she perfect. The next half hour was spent clicking away behind her camera. Her muse had inspired some of her most beautiful photographs. She’d even begun a collection of some of her most favorite images. For the safety of her beautiful sub, she concealed her identity by never photographing her gorgeous face; although it was very difficult sometimes when she appeared so breathtakingly euphoric. The rope work was for Franky, the whipping to follow was for Erica. Her knees must have been burning as long as Franky had kept her in position, but the girl didn’t show any indication of discomfort, and for that, she deserved to be rewarded. When she was satisfied Franky set the camera down and brushed her fingertips under Erica’s chin, and she finally granted her permission to look up.  
  
“On the bed, face down,” she instructed. The submissive did her best to hide her excitement. Franky helped her situate herself since her arms were bound behind her back. Once she had settled with her cheek pressed against the cool leather and her arse upwards, Franky retrieved the whip from its proper place in the cabinet. It was high time she gave Erica what she really needed. Before she could even begin, she was already shivering with anticipation. The Domme couldn’t bear to make her wait a moment longer. Without a word, she struck her right thigh with a resounding crack that made Erica’s entire form tense.  
  
“Thank you, Mistress,” she moaned out softly, preparing herself for the next strike.  
  
“You’re very welcome, Miss Davidson,” Franky smiled marking the left side identically to its mate. Erica gasped in response, but instead of pulling away from the next stroke of the whip, she arched her back further presenting herself. Her slick folds came into the brunette’s line of vision, and it took every ounce of control within her not to just turn the whip over and fuck her girl with it’s thick handle until all she could do was scream her name. She shook the thought away, knowing it wasn’t what Erica desired. What she desired was a firm hand and a clean strike on that arse of hers. So she began the careful intersecting lines over her perfect skin. At first she managed to thank her Domme by name, but Franky could tell she was slipping under the waves.  
  
Soon enough the only response she received were desperate little moans of pleasure. The sound was like a symphony against her ears. In a grande finale the brunette struck her hard at the crease of her arse, the whip popping loudly as it made contact causing her sub to howl loudly with delight as her arms struggled against her tight bindings behind her back. Her hips had begun a slow yet deliberate grind downwards seeking any relief to her aching centre. It was time to take pity on her, Franky decided. Franky stripped herself of her clothing and let it fall to the ground. She couldn’t be bothered hanging them up. Not when Erica Davidson was laying there desperate and ready for her. Whimpers were pouring out of her open mouth. Franky couldn’t wait another second to ratchet things up. She quickly opened a drawer retrieving Erica’s second favorite toy: the strapon. Before she’d fuck her girl senseless, she first she needed to take the edge off to bring her to center. She silently stepped back over to her sub’s quivering form. Within seconds, she was pressing two fingers into her already dripping sex. Her efforts were rewarded with a low growl from Erica who had started steadily rocking herself back on Franky’s digits.  
  
“Relax, Miss Davidson,” she instructed with a hand on Erica’s hip to stop her movements. She listened with a pitiful whimper, but her hips halted their work. Once she completely still, her Domme continued her assault by adding a third digit into her folds. She slowly and rhythmically increased her speed bringing Erica near climax.  
  
“Please,” she begged without thinking her nails digging into her own flesh. She was so close. Just as quickly as it began, the fingers were gone leaving Erica groaning. Her clouded mind realized her error and attempted to correct it quickly. “Please, Mistress!” she cried out with tears burning her eyes. The touch was back and the thrusts increased until all she could do was releasing a steady stream of moans. “Please let me-”  
  
“Come,” Franky commanded pressing her fingers to her sensitive front wall sending Erica screaming out as her orgasm overtook her. Franky then used the nearby pair of medical scissors to remove the binding ropes from her arms to free her; red indents were left behind in their wake. “What do you say, Erica?” Franky moved around to her front petting her sub’s hair.  
  
“Thank you, Mistress.”  
  
“How about you show me how thankful you are,” she purred climbing onto the bed in front of the blonde. Desire flooded Erica’s vision. She needed only seconds to respond to the command. Then she feasted upon Franky’s slick folds, deliberately running her tongue over the length of her pussy. Nothing in the world pleased Erica like this, especially not her fiance. The blonde was always so eager to please her Domme, and tasting her always left her desire surging upwards to the clouds. It hadn’t taken much encouragement after the first act of their play matched with the sight of blonde tresses between her legs and the moans the blonde was releasing. Franky held her in place right where she needed her as she came with a shudder, tossing her head back.  
  
Now it was time for the final act. Still panting, Franky pulled on the waiting harness and roughly pulled Erica into her lap. Her slick heat required little coaxing to slide down on the thick shaft. Her Domme absolutely loved seeing the length disappearing inside of her girl, filling her to the hilt. She gained leverage on her hips, pulling her down over and over as her pert breasts bounced at the intensity of her thrusts. The second round always took time to work her back up to incoherent shaking. But Franky greatly enjoyed the stamina that they had built over the last five years of experience. Even after all this time though, her sub could still take the breath away from her lungs. It almost made Franky feel like they had something more than that of a Domme and a sub. She sought solstice in the idea that she was the only one who could really give Erica Davidson what she wanted, what she craved, what she absolutely needed. It was moments like these that she felt like it was love. Who wouldn’t fall in love with her? What with those pillowy lips and high cheekbones. It was those bright blue eyes that had truly done her in for good. The way that the sapphire orbs looked at her with such complete and total trust made her head spin.  
  
The stutter of her hips was the telltale sign that she was close. Franky ripped herself from her thoughts and got back to business. Her strong hands held her hips in place as she worked her own hips upwards to fuck her properly. Her head fell back, extending her elegant neck as her lips formed the perfect little ‘o’ shape.  
  
“Look at me,” Franky commanded through her thrusts. Hooded blue eyes gazed down upon her, silently begging for release. “Let go,” she permitted. Seconds later her sub was vibrating through another loud climax before falling limp against her.  
  
“Thank you, Mistress,” she panted with a truly serene smile painted on her face. Her eyes finally fluttered closed to rest.

Fuck, she really was perfect. 

 

Erica came to much later, her eyes blinking back to life where she found herself nestled in her favorite blanket on Franky’s large sectional couch. She searched her line of vision for the brunette but came up empty handed. Words still proving to hard to form, she whimpered which in turn caused the brunette to appear like magic.  
  
“Hey gorgeous, welcome back,” Franky smiled as she kneeled before her on the couch. Erica returned the glance with a sleepy grin of her own. “How you feeling?” she used her palm to check that Erica’s skin was warming after her drop down. It was common for body temperature to plummet after intense scenes, but that wasn’t the case now. She released her breathe she wasn’t aware she was holding. The blonde’s face had color and her eyes were hers again. Erica reached for her slender fingers and brought them to her soft lips as her way of responding to the question. She was feeling fucking fantastic. “I was just fixing some dinner, you need to eat something.” Even outside of the room, Erica was always listening to the instructions of her Domme. She nodded and took Franky’s hand to help her up. She was smiling dreamily up to her. “What, sweetheart?” Franky’s brow creased. Was she really alright?  
  
“I love you,” Erica murmured up to her. Franky smiled, leaning down and delivering a passionate kiss to her full lips.  
  
“Let’s get you fed, Miss Davidson,” Franky giggled disappearing into the kitchen. If Erica hadn’t been so deliriously happy, she would have noticed that Franky had, yet again, not returned her three words.


	3. Le plaisir, la douleur

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: BDSM and lots of smut

A month of anticipation had passed since Bridget’s first encounter with the green eyed Domme. Green eyes had flooded her sultry dreams nearly every night leaving her panting for air as she awoke alone in her bed. She’d tried to stay busy as a distraction, pouring herself into her work. She’d scheduled extra sessions with her incarcerated clients, and she’d hosted more group counseling groups than normal as well. She put off the added care on another death inside the prison, but in reality it was just an excuse to get her mind off of what she really wanted.  
Bridget didn’t get lonely. Not after all these years living alone in her little sanctuary she had build for herself. Her home wasn’t huge, but it was spacious enough for her and her fat tabby cat, Gus. He was the only man that she’d ever share her bed with, and the spoiled feline was well aware of this fact. She’d chosen to decorate her space with quirky finds from her travels abroad. The trinkets were placed with care around the walls and surfaces of her home as constant reminders of her adventures. Among her most prized possessions was her wall of crucifixes. While she wasn’t exactly practicing any particular religion, the beauty of the imagery wasn’t lost on her nor the numerous other countries she had visited.  
  
Somehow she had survived the long four weeks and she arrived at the familiar red door with excitement coursing through her veins. She’d been unable to eat much of anything that day, her nerves getting the best of her. The blonde was still having a hard time believing that this was actually her. Cool and collected Bridget Westfall on her way to be dominated by a young and beautiful woman. And yet, here she was again, ringing the bell.  
  
Franky’s smile was the first thing to greet her as she opened the wooden door and ushered the blonde inside. She pulled her into a tight hug, the sensation instantly soothing her anxieties away.  
  
“How are you, Bridget?” she asked, her smile still playing at her lips. She was having a hard time keeping her hands off of the petite woman.  
  
“I’m doing quite well, you?” she replied honestly.  
  
“Better now that you’re here. Follow me,” Franky escorted her down the familiar hallway. The breathtaking picture frame was still in its place at the end of the corridor, taunting her. She stared openly as they walked the short distance to her office. Franky noticed, of course she noticed. “You can’t get enough of that, can you?” She teased before unlocking her office instead of the room on the other side. Bridget frowned. “Not to worry Miss Westfall, we’ll get to the play time in a moment. I just want to check in first. Patience is a virtue, isn’t that what they say?” The blonde accepted the explanation and followed her into the room to sit across from her. She was reaching into her filing cabinet to retrieve Bridget’s portfolio to set it on the desk between them. She then pulled another piece of paper and turned it towards her.  
  
“Is this a psych eval?” Bridget cocked an eyebrow. She didn’t have to ask, she already knew it was by the familiar scale of numbers from one to five.  
  
“Why yes it is. I’d like you to complete it please.” Franky’s thumb first clicked the waiting pen and extended it towards her sub. “I’ll step out to give you some privacy.” She pushed her chair back to exit the room.  
  
“You can’t be serious,” Bridget laughed. This was a joke, wasn’t it? Franky paused her  
  
movements, her face hardening.  
  
“Do I not look serious?” Her eyebrows creased signaling that she was in fact, legitimately asking her to complete a survey she had used on her very own clients. “Your psychological health is very important to me. I thought I had already made that clear,” she said firmly.  
  
“You have, but-”  
  
“But what? You think because you’re a shrink that I’m going to change my procedures?” The Domme interrupted her speech. She crossed her arms over her chest. With her sleeves rolled up Bridget was finally able to see the lines of a tattoo traced over her skin for the first time. It appeared to be feathers of a very colorful and magnificent bird that was hidden underneath her shirt.  
  
“I’m a forensic psychologist,” Bridget quickly corrected. “And I can assure you that I am of sound mind to continue.” She was much more prepared than whatever individuals the brunette saw. She had to be.  
  
“Fifty-seven percent.”  
  
“Excuse me?” Had she missed something while she was busy staring at the ink on her forearm?  
  
“Submissives are fifty-seven percent more likely to attempt suicide than their normative peers.” Bridget fell silent at the Domme’s revelation. “I’ve been doing this for twelve years and in that time I’ve had three attempts from what I thought were some of the most stable subs that I have ever worked with. This thing here we’re doing here? This isn’t just fun and games. So if you want to continue, you’ll fill this out honestly and completely. I’ll give you a moment to decide.” Without another second, Franky left the room in a flash shutting the blonde in. Bridget was torn. On one hand, she felt insulted that the Domme considered her the same as everyone else. On the other hand, she desperately wanted to see what the beautiful brunette had up her sleeve...literally and figuratively. After a moment of hesitation, she began to fill out the evaluation openly before sliding it back to the otherside of the desk. She waited impatiently for the return of her Domme.  
  
Franky stood at the other side of the door with an ear placed on the wood listening carefully. She prayed that she’d been able to reason with the psychologist inside. Fill out the fuckin form, Bridget. She wasn’t anywhere near finished with the beautiful blonde. They hadn’t even begun to explore the dynamic that they shared. It would be such a shame to dismiss her and so soon. Suddenly Franky heard the rustling of papers and smiled. It looked like they would have their time together after all. She opened the door and returned to her seat to review the survey. Once she was satisfied, she glanced up to the waiting blue eyes.  
  
“Let’s get started then.” Bridget could have cried out with joy as they walked the short distance across the hall.  
  
“Our focus this session is on practicing restraint,” the Domme began to explain with her key ready to unlock the door.  
  
“You can tie me up-” Bridget was itching to feel the rope against her skin.  
  
“Not that kind of restraint, you sweet thing.” Franky smiled devilishly and stifled a giddy laugh. “I meant being able to control your urges; prudence.”  
  
“Yes, Francesca.” She nodded, slightly confused at what acts lay ahead of her on the other side of the door, but desperate to find out. franky unlocked it and ushered her inside. It was exactly as she had remembered except for the supplies settled on the bed.  
  
“Undress, get in position, head bowed,” she said firmly. Bridget did as she was told and hung her clothes and sunk to her knees with her eyes on the floor beneath her. She folded her hands just as her Domme had showed her. “Your words?”  
  
“Jasmine and Crimson, Madame.”  
  
“Very good. Show me your hands please.” The blonde extended her hands upwards without lifting her head. Even without the use of sight she could feel something being wrapped around her wrists. “Do you know what these are, Bridget?” she asked once she had finished strapping her in and placing the woman’s hands back in her lap to view. Wrapped around her delicate wrists were smooth leather cuffs lined with fur. They were a beautiful shade of deep mahogany.  
  
“Are they cuffs, Madame?” Bridget turned her hands over feeling the weight of them against her skin.  
  
“That they are. But they aren’t just any cuffs. These are your cuffs, that means that they belong to you and you alone. Do you like them?”  
  
“Yes, Madame. Thank you, I love them.” She continued to stare in awe.  
  
“You’re welcome. I’d like you to inspect them closely.” Her sub followed her instructions and brought the new accessory closer to her eyes to look them over. Suddenly her gaze settled upon what appeared to be a flaw in the leather. Upon further inspection, it wasn’t a flaw at all instead it was pressed with the initials BW. Bridget Westfall. She smiled brightly feeling a sense of pride. Her eyes flickered to the other cuff to search for the match, but she came up empty handed. Instead embossed on the other side were the letters FD. Franky’s hand wrapped around her wrist and touched the unfamiliar initials. “Do you know what those are?”  
  
“Are they yours, Madame?”  
  
“Indeed they are. Now while these do in fact belong to you, technically they belong to me. Do you know why, Bridget?”  
  
“Because I belong to you, Madame.”  
  
“That’s correct,” her Madame praised with a hand cupped over her warm cheek. Franky brought her gaze upwards to seek out the beautiful blue hue within them. “Say it again.”  
  
“I belong to you,” Bridget repeated airily. Her words caused a wolf-like smile to appear over the brunette’s face. She brushed her thumb over pillowy lips only to have the blonde open her mouth to accept the digit between them graciously.  
  
Franky’s arousal was almost unbearable as she watched her thumb part the woman’s delicious lips and then felt the suction of her mouth. Fuck. She silenced a moan from escaping her throat. She quickly ripped away from the touch, knowing she’d break if it continued.  
  
“Get in bed on your back. Now.” She commanded and Bridget listened expertly like it was what she was put on earth to do. Once she had settled Franky took one of the cuffs in her hands and brought it above Bridget’s head to latch to the headboard. She did the same to the other hand effectively locking her to the bed. “Try to tug them.” When she attempted to pull at the cuffs, she was met with almost immediate resistance from the ties above her. She wasn’t going anywhere unless she was unlatched by the woman hovering above her. Her heartbeat quickened as did her breathing.  
  
Sensing the fear within her, Franky leaned down over the bed to place a deep kiss over Bridget’s lips. The kiss deepened quickly as the Domme’s tongue demanded entrance within the warm little den of pleasure. Bridget could feel herself being taken away by the pleasure until a snapping bite on her bottom lip sent her back to reality. She winced at the pain and the taste of iron flooded her mouth. Franky let her fingertips slide down her sub’s chest and bare abdomen until she landed at either delicate ankle. She attached the matching cuffs to her last two limbs and secured them to the bottom of the bed all the while checking Bridget’s body for any unwelcome changes. Her breathing had increased, but she remained still. So far, so good.  
  
“Looks like I lied do you when I said we weren’t working on physical restraint today. I hope that’s alright, Miss Westfall.” Franky needn’t ask for permission. She saw the hungry look in the woman’s eyes each time that they took in the sight of her muse’s rope-clad form in the corridor. She knew it was what the psychologist wanted, and she had every intent of giving it to her. But they had to start slow in order to build up to the heavier acts.  
  
“Yes, Madame.” Bridget nodded her appreciation. Franky then retrieved the flogger from the foot of the bed and begun a slow drag over sensitive skin. Franky had deliberately asked the blonde to remain in her undergarments. Her first real taste of BDSM would be thrilling enough without worrying about the pain to her most sensitive parts. No, she’d save those for later when she’d earned it.  
  
“Do you know what this is, Bridget?” Bridget shook her head back and forth. She couldn’t speak with the hypnotizing pattern that her Domme was painting over her flesh.  
  
Crack went the flogger’s tassels against the front of Bridget’s right thigh. She gasped loudly, her limbs instinctively trying to recoil from the sting. The chains rattled and she remained open and at the mercy of the Domme above her.  
  
“I asked you a question.” Franky’s low voice hit her ears.  
  
“I don’t know, Madame. I’m sorry,” she quickly sputtered as her chest heaved. The brunette could hear the tinge of fear lining her voice. She proceeded with caution.  
  
“That’s better. This is called a flogger.” She let the smooth leather brush soothingly over the woman’s chest and then into the woman’s eyeline so she could inspect it. Franky then brought it up to one of her cuffed hands so she could run the item over her open palm. “Incredible isn’t it? How it can go from pleasure to pain so quickly?”  
  
“Yes, Madame.” Bridget didn’t hesitate with her response this time, knowing what happened if she didn’t follow orders. Franky grinned.  
  
“I’m going to strike you two more times and only two. When and where I decide to do it is up to me. When I finish, I will put it away, understand?” Build the trust, Doyle.  
  
“Yes, Madame,” she breathed. Bridget’s nerves were all over the place as the words hit her ears. The first strike had hurt, but the sting had already disappeared. She was unable to glance down from her positioning and see what impact it had left on her skin. The feeling that it prompted had not disappeared. She swallowed preparing herself for more.  
  
Franky began long, soothing strokes over her body. She was right, it did feel good the way it cascaded over her like a paintbrush. Her breathing steadied when she’d begun her forth rotation from wrist to ankle.  
  
Crack it went once more on her other leg this time. The surprise of the strike had caused Bridget to tug at her restraints once more with her mouth wide open. It had felt different this time. It had felt...good. She relaxed her arms and legs effectively opening herself up to whatever was to come. Franky could have wept at the sight unfolding. Submission in its purest form. It was so beautiful to watch the flip of the switch. She let the flogger continue its delicate dance over the woman’s body listening as she began to moan ever so softly.  
  
Crack she hit once more watching the surge of emotions play over the woman’s face. First shock, then pain, then they both gave way to sweet, sweet pleasure. She put the flogger away and grabbed her medical scissors. Without another minute to lose, she snipped through the middle of Bridget’s bra and she cupped the firm breasts that lay below. She bent down to take one of her pert nipples between her lips, using her free fingertips to tease the other sweet little bud into hardness. The blonde’s back arched up as she offered herself like a present to her Domme. Franky continued to lavish her skin with hot, wet kisses until she reached her real target. The scissors were back and she sliced through the thin material of Bridget’s knickers, casting the now destroyed material onto the floor.  
  
She lowered her mouth down to see how truly beautiful the woman’s pink folds were up close. She was wet and ready for what was to come. The scent of her arousal nearly sent Franky’s head soaring. She used her tongue to part her inner lips and taste her for the first time. She couldn’t hold back the moan from escaping her lips. She devoured her, kissing and lapping over each delicate part of the woman’s sex. Bridget’s moans from above were pouring from her mouth like honey. Franky let her tongue explore further up, pressing to the tight bundle of nerves at the crux of her slit. Bridget’s hips tilted at the added touch.  
  
Franky used her tongue to quickly wet two of her fingers before sliding them home inside her in one swift motion. She began to thrust them painstakingly slow. When she glanced upwards, she nearly lost every once of control she claimed to possess. Bridget’s mouth was hanging open and her eyes were mere slits as she gazed down at her Domme. Franky began fucking her in earnest determined to send her over the edge.  
  
“Oh please!” Bridget began to beg as she rocked her hips downwards. Franky smiled from her place between her legs. She slowed her hand until it had all but stopped. Franky looked up once again to see her sub’s animalistic desire unfolding. Her lips were curled back over sharp teeth as if she was ready to bite.  
  
“Please, what?” Franky removed her touch entirely and thrust her wet fingers between her lips to lick them clean. Bridget growled wantonly, rattling the chains of her cuffed hands.  
  
“Fuck me, Madame!” She cried out of sheer desperation. She needed to have her Domme’s touch back. She listened and quickly thrust her fingers back inside her aching cunt and curled them expertly as she sucked her swollen clit. Bridget howled through what she was positive was the most intense orgasm she had ever experienced. She pulled and struggled with her bindings while heat engulfed her from within. Just when she was certain she was spent, Franky continued bringing another wave of pleasure crashing over her. She was gasping for air as her chest heaved to fill her screaming lungs. But oh god did it feel good. Franky’s hand pressed down over the lowest part of her abdomen sending her sub shaking through one last powerful and wet orgasm that coated her hand and mouth. Bridget’s sight flickered until all she could see was bright white light overtaking her.  
  
  
  


Franky had pushed Bridget in so many aspects that it was of no great surprise to her when it took nearly two hours for the woman to rouse from her slumber. It had given Franky ample time to sooth her skin with aloe in case any sting was left from the flogger. Her skin only contained a small amount of redness considering she had gone easy on her for her first time. They’d have an opportunity to work up to more if Bridget wanted to do it. But from the looks of it, she definitely wanted to explore more. Her hands were red from her hard tugs at her cuffs. Franky smiled at the thought of her sub’s face when she saw the lettering she’d chosen. So beautiful.  
  
She was torn, she knew she needed to stay to monitor her closely, but she also knew that Bridget would need to eat a full meal once she had come to. Her body would have worked through all of its reserves from their actions. Franky settled on ordering takeaway in order to accomplish both tasks simultaneously. She mentally thanked herself for being so thorough in her start up procedures. She quickly flipped through a list of Bridget’s preferences to find something suitable to eat when she woke. She’d need to build her strength after how hard she’d worked. Franky placed the order for thai food on her mobile from the hallway so as to not disturb the sleeping blonde. She didn’t want to wake her before she was ready, preferring to let her rest as long as she needed. Once she’d finished, she noticed two missed text messages from Erica which she ignored. She slipped back into the room and carefully sit beside Bridget. God, she had been so...perfect. Never in her years had she seen someone submit fully so soon in their relationship building. How was it even possible? She shook her head in disbelief while her brain replayed that sweet moment in her mind. The lithe woman relaxed so fully, serving herself up on a silver platter. For her. Just for her.  
  
Franky had known from her teens that she was meant for something more than the rest of the world. Relationships made her uneasy, having never really seen a functioning and loving one up close. Her parents marriage could only be described as dysfunctional, and even then that was putting it mildly. She’d seen and heard insults hurled upon both her mother and father from the sanctuary of her small bedroom. Parents were supposed to look at each other with love and trust. When she saw her parents gazing at one another, their eyes were filled with hatred. And she knew why. It was because of her. The few pictures she’d seen of them together were from much happier times. That was before Franky was born. She’d been the wedge that drove them apart. She’d been the force that made her father run as far away as he could. Her mother made sure that she knew it was her fault. She first began her assault with her words, but when her daughter’s skin thickened, she started using her hands to put the pain there. At first Franky would wail miserably when she’d slap her across the cheeks. But she soon figured out that she could escape into the confines of her own mine to seek safety. Her mother’s attack progressed even further, resorting to burning her own daughter’s flesh with the ends of cigarettes until she cried and begged her to stop. But nothing she could do would ever bring the finish she wanted. She’d burn and burn until finally her body would collapse in itself into unconsciousness. When she woke it was to excruciating pain at her sides where the little red welts had risen.  
  
And she’d taken the abuse for years and years knowing that she deserved it. She put the pain in her mother’s eyes and as her way of paying her daughter back, she did the same. Emaciated and exhausted, she finally gave in and lifted her shirt for the school nurse. She couldn’t take the pain anymore, so she threw in the towel. Anything was better than night after night of constant torture.  
  
Things hadn’t gotten much better when she was made a ward of the state. She’d been bounced around from home to home because she was unable to warm to anyone. That part of her was locked away deep down, and no amount of love and affection her foster parents could give would ever bring it out. They’d all given up and returned her like a broken toy. At eighteen she was finally free.  
  
Franky found the world of BDSM by accident. What she first thought was just kinky play with a girlfriend quickly turned into desperate cravings. The relationship dissolved quickly of course when it became the only thing she wanted. Franky Doyle would and could never make love, she made war. War was what she deserved. She never wanted to look at a lover the way her parents had gazed upon each other, wolves ready to rip each other apart. She didn’t even want the loving glances. All she wanted the look of absolute submission painted across the face of a glowing sub.  
  
She found herself staring at that very look she desired when she glanced down at Bridget Westfall. Perfect and poised even in her sleep. Franky felt a twinge of something inside of her chest, but quickly ignored it as she lay back against the pillow beneath her. She would wait her out as long as she needed. If she could keep her eyes open, that is.  
  
  
Bridget’s eyes blinked open to find herself in the familiar white room she remembered. She felt as if she had slept for a thousand years as she stretched her limbs. The tension had all but disappeared. The only evidence of her fantasy was the slight tinge of color around her wrists. Slowly she sat up from the plush mattress in search of her Domme. From the corner of her eye she saw the woman laying beside her was sleeping soundly with her hands underneath her cheek like a slumbering child. Bridget smiled at the sight. She couldn’t resist reaching out and brushing the woman’s raven locks from her face. Green eyes blinked back to life as she woke. She sat up instantly all of her previous tiredness gone.  
  
“How are you?” She asked taking in the state of her gorgeous sub. She did her best to hide her embarrassment that she’d been caught sleeping. She cupped Bridget’s cheek checking her body heat. She felt heavenly to the touch.  
  
“Perfect,” the blonde smiled broadly. “That was…” she tried to find the words to describe what she was feeling. Suddenly she was interrupted from her thoughts by the doorbell downstairs.  
  
“That would be dinner. Stay, drink that. I’ll be right back.” Franky pointed to a waiting bottle before slipping down the stairs to fetch their meal. Bridget did as she was told and drank nearly the whole bottle of Gatorade by the time Franky had returned.  
  
“What’s that?” Bridget asked nodded to the bag in the brunette’s hand.  
  
“Thai, you need to eat something. I insist,” she stated firmly as she unbagged the containers: a pad thai for Bridget, and a curry dish for herself. The blonde’s hunger immediately made itself known at the smell of the food being handed to her.  
  
“You think of everything, don’t you?” She smiled and began to eat happily.  
  
“That’s kind of my thing,” Franky teased as she sat back beside the petite woman. The pair ate in comfortable silence, taking in the events of what turned out to be a fantastic session.  
  
“That was amazing,” Bridget finally broke the stillness. Franky smiled and shook her head. “What? It was.” She immediately felt self conscious about her admittance.  
  
“I couldn’t agree more. You’re…” Perfect. “You’re a natural, Miss Westfall. I’m still finding it hard to believe this is your first foray into my world if I’m being honest. You’re almost too good.”  
  
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”  
  
“You should because I don’t give those at very easily outside of that room downstairs.” Bridget laughed aloud, the sound like music to Franky’s ears.  
  
“You’re quite funny, you know? When you’re not being so serious.” Bridget continued to pick at the noodles on her plate.  
  
“Well thank you.” Franky tried to formulate a more witty response, but the praise she had just received made her mind go fuzzy. She turned her sights back on her food.  
  
Once she had finished her meal, Bridget stood from the bed to find her clothes and a new set of knickers atop the dresser. She smiled once more.  
  
“Where do you think you’re going?” Franky’s eyebrows creased at the movement.  
  
“Home?” Bridget slid the clothes on with a mirrored look of confusion.  
  
“I’d feel a lot more comfortable if you stayed. We got pretty intense today. I want to be able to keep an eye on you.” Franky hated letting subs go after what they’d been through.  
  
“I can assure you, I’m fine. I have a very early day tomorrow.”  
  
“Of head shrinking?” Franky smirked at the woman getting dressed in front of her.  
  
“Of counseling, Francesca,” the blonde corrected.  
  
“Then I’ll drive you.”  
  
“I need my car.” Fuck, Franky thought, she’s right. She knew she was being overprotective. She just wanted to err on the side of caution. She didn’t want anything to take away that look from her life so shortly after it had began. Her heart twinged again.  
  
“You’ll call me when you get home,” she commanded, finally relenting. She stood to walk the woman out to the door.  
  
“I promise I will,” her sub nodded.  
  
“And you’ll call me in the morning too or if anything changes before then.” Franky’s hand stilled on the doorknob but refusing to turn it.  
  
“I promise I will call,” Bridget smiled at her concern. She stood on her toes and kissed the woman’s lips. It had been the first time she herself had initiated their touch, and it sent Franky’s nerves on edge. She turned the door and opened it for the blonde to exit before she could see what the kiss had really done.  
  
“Goodbye, Miss Westfall.”  
  
“Goodbye, Francesca,” she disappeared down the drive to her car.  
  
  
  


The drive home was silent as Bridget let herself reflect on her day. She was floating on air by the time she had arrived home and fell onto the sofa and promptly fell asleep. She dozed peacefully until she was ripped from her dreams by the loud buzzing of her mobile from the coffee table. She tried to force herself to pick it up, but her exhaustion was impeding her from doing much of anything. The mobile buzzed again and again. Suddenly, realization hit her.  
  
“Oh shit!” She shot up and fumbled to press the green button below Francesca’s name across the screen. Fuck, fuck, fuck.  
  
“Bridget.” Franky said plainly once she had finally answered the phone.  
  
“I dozed off on the couch, I am so sorry. I can’t imagine how worried you must have been,” Bridget’s stuttered response came out of her lips.  
  
“I thought you were in a ditch,” even under duress, her Madame’s voice sounded even and calm.  
  
“I know, I’m so sorry.” The sounds of traffic on the other end were enough of an indication for Bridget to know that she must have been driving. The location she was headed was most likely to her home to check on her.  
  
“You had instructions to call me when you got home,” her voice snapped. Unable to control the anger within, Franky pulled off the road and into a parking lot to finish the conversation. Her hands were shaking with rage or fear, she wasn’t entirely sure at the moment. Maybe it was both.  
  
“I know.”  
  
“And you didn’t follow those instructions. Do you know what happens when you can’t listen to orders, Miss Westfall?” Even over the phone she could dominate her.  
  
“No, Madame,” Bridget whispered softly.  
  
“Well, I’ll tell you.You get punished,” She snarled.  
  
“I’m sorry?” Bridget stuttered, unsure of where she was going.  
  
“Three months suspension. Unless it’s to check in on your psychological state, you will not see or hear from me. When your time is up, I will contact you.” WHAT? Bridget shook her head in disbelief. There was no way.  
  
“Francesca, wait-” she panicked.  
  
“Goodbye, Bridget. See you in three months.” Before she could attempt to protest again, the line was discontinued. Bridget sat with her mouth open, her mind still processing what had happened.  
  
  
On the other side, Franky had thrown her mobile to the other side of the car with a howl of frustration, the tears of relief stinging her eyes. She pinched the bridge of her nose in a feeble attempt to staunch them. Sure, she was feeling better knowing that Bridget was safe at home. The punishment was necessary for her to learn, but Franky felt...something she couldn’t quite explain knowing she wouldn’t be seeing the petite blonde for three months.  
  
After a solid ten minutes of breathing slowly, she retrieved her phone and dialed the only number she knew by heart. The blonde’s docile tone responded after the second ring.  
  
“What’s say me and my muse have some fun this evening?” Franky smiled. She needed to get her head centered and off of Bridget fucking Westfall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments and constructive criticism have been so inspiring to me. I really appreciate your words of encouragement as they brighten my days. Hope you enjoy!


	4. Les pechés mortels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: Mark Pearson decided to show up, my apologies. 
> 
> Real TW: As always BDSM, and smutty smut smut

Franky tried to keep her mind off of Bridget as best she could throughout their forced hiatus. The blonde’s error had not only irritated her, it scared the fuck out of her. She knew it was the right thing to do. The psychologist had to learn the hard way if Franky was ever going to get a handle on her. She had been particularly hard on any visitors to her locked room trying to fulfill her dark cravings. Erica had been the recipient of many of these encounters, her beautiful and willing pet. With her fiance Mark going away on business for two weeks it left the two with a lot of downtime together. She loved the thrill she’d get from flaunting it right underneath his unsuspecting nose. He thought his future spouse to be the perfect little housewife of his dreams. She’d even been there to see him off before his flight so she could fuck her girl in his bed.  
  
“Have a good trip darling, please call me when you land alright?” Erica said giving her husband a quick kiss on the lips. Neither were big on displays of affection in front of company, and Franky was grateful for that. Even the small act of intimacy made her skin crawl.  
  
“I will, love. Franky, you’ll take care of my girl won’t you?”  
  
“I always do,” she smiled slyly. Erica took a large gulp of wine to calm her nerves.  
  
“You two are practically attached at the hip, you know?” He chidded with a smile. Franky had to stifle a laugh from escaping her throat. If only you know, you daft wanker.  
  
“Well, Mark, maybe if you learned to cook properly your girl she wouldn’t have to spend so much time with me. Truth be told she’s not a big fan of meat, she prefers to eat vegetarian.” Franky grinned broadly ignoring the warning look that flashed across Erica’s face.  
  
“Maybe you’re right! I’d love to get some of your recipes if you wouldn’t mind,” Mark chuckled as he gave Franky’s shoulder a pat. She had to mentally stop herself from recoiling from the touch.  
  
“You couldn’t handle my recipes, but you can certainly try,” she fired back.  
  
“Franky!” Erica scolded. What are you doing, she panicked. Her wide eyes served as a silent plea for Franky to stand down.  
  
“You two! Have fun ladies. Franky, get her to relax a little would you? She’s been so tense.”  
  
“That’s the plan, Mark. Safe travels,” she nodded to him as a send off. Erica saw him out the door to his waiting taxi. Franky waited for what she was certain would be the start of a very entertaining evening with her golden girl in three, two, one...  
  
“Really? Vegetarian? Take an add out in the paper why don’t you!” Erica yelled as she walked back towards the kitchen to stand beside her.  
  
“Oh, lighten up. He’s oblivious,” Franky laughed at Erica’s feigned anger. “Besides you know it turns you on.” Franky stood and approached her prey.  
  
“I’m serious, Franky.”  
  
“So am I.” Franky flipped Erica to face the island and pressed against her back like a cat in heat. “You know it turns you on,” she hissed against her ear letting her hand slip under Erica’s skirt and slide up the inside of her thigh. “I bet you’re already wet for me, aren’t you?” She whispered against the blonde’s ear before taking the lobe between her teeth and biting playfully. Erica’s sharp intake of breath came in response as she melt like putty in her Domme’s hands. Franky’s nimble fingers slid home to find the blonde completely devoid of underwear. “Miss Davidson, you dirty, dirty girl,” she continued as she allowed her hand touch the woman’s slick heat. “Mmm, I was right.” Franky coated her fingers by letting them slip back and forth over her slit.  
  
“Please, Franky,” Erica croaked pitifully, bringing her hand up to the back of Franky’s neck to beg her to continue playing her body like an instrument. How could she read her so well? “Please,” she tried again when she didn’t get the desired touch she craved. She resorted to rolling her hips down to gain any friction she could against her pussy.  
  
“Say it,” Franky demanded as she lavished the woman’s neck with hard kisses. She ended the assault with a deep bite to the crook of her neck before soothing it with her lips and tongue. Two weeks sans the wanker meant that she was free to mark her up however she saw fit. Erica groaned loudly as the pain hit her consciousness and she tried once more to thrust herself back onto eager fingers. “Say it and it’s yours.” She used her free hand to wrap around Erica’s ponytail and tug it back gently.  
  
“I’m yours,” Erica panted spreading herself wider for what she hoped would be the first round of many at the expert hands of her lover. But her words did nothing, Franky didn’t move an inch. “Please, Franky. I’m yours.” She tried once more with a louder and more desperate tone.  
  
At last her Domme was sent into action. She ripped through the buttons of Erica’s delicate blouse leaving her chest panting for air. Then she pressed her down onto the smooth surface of the granite pulling her skirt up around her waist to leave her bottom half completely exposed to the cool kitchen air. It all happened so quickly that Erica’s brain hadn’t a moment to prepare before she was filled to the hilt with three fingers. Franky would never tire of how open and ready her sub always was for her. Three fingers had her purring like a cat in heat.  
  
“Say it again.” Franky continued to fuck her girl with long, hard strokes. The fire inside her was burning brightly and rapidly taking control. She surrendered to the flames and brought her hand to Erica’s elegant neck. The blonde gasped at the touch, but thrust herself backwards losing herself to the rhythm. Franky put pressure around the delicate skin as she increased the speed of her hand, ready to send Erica to the sky. “Say it!” She yelled curling her fingers inside the woman’s throbbing sex.  
  
“I’m yours!” Erica howled as her legs began to shake and her climax ripped through her body. She collapsed against the counter, spent and dizzy. Franky’s grip around her neck was gone and in its place were delicate kisses and gentle strokes of her now messy hair.  
  
Once she’d had a moment to recover, she stood and wrapped her arms around Franky’s neck to pull her close. Franky picked the woman up by wrapping her legs around her waist and carried her down the corridor knowing exactly where to turn. Erica’s head was currently resting against Franky’s shoulder in a dreamlike trance. She whispered something into the brunette’s thick hair, but it was too quiet to be heard.  
  
“What was that love?”  
  
“Did you bring rope?”  
  
Franky smiled and decided it was time to feed the devil inside of herself.  
  
  
  


Bridget had survived two months into her punishment, and it was still radio silence from her Domme. Initially the three month hiatus didn’t seem like it would be too big of a deal. She’d only been seeing her for less than six months anyway, perhaps a short vacation from the heaviness would be good for her. The hardness didn’t take long to settle back into her neck and shoulders, it’s where she carried the stress of her job. Normally she could go weeks before feeling the pinch settle back in. Now without the regular flights away from her troubles, she could feel every ache and pain. She knew reaching out to the Domme would only provide further vindication for the beautiful brunette. And one thing that Bridget Westfall was never going to do outside of that beautiful room was beg.  
  
She arrived home at the end of another long, quiet week. Although she had visions of crawling into bed early and giving up, her torment wasn’t over. She’d promised to attend a banquet for one of the youth groups she frequented for children of offenders. She even had a speaking role, so feigning illness was out of the question. Instead she readied herself in the blue chiffon full length gown that accentuated the small size of her waist. The delicate fabric took care to drape beautifully over one shoulder, leaving the other on full display. She left her hair down in those loose curls that framed her tanned face so nicely. After one last glance in the mirror as she fastened her earrings, Bridget delivered a short pat on Gus’ wide head before she slipped out the door. She hoped the night would pass by quickly.  
  
Attending events as Erica's date was always one of Franky’s favorite things to do when Mark was out of town. She relished in the delicate play between the two as Erica fought to balance the two versions of herself. On one hand she was the hot-ass lawyer who got shit done, and on the other she was a perfect little submissive that always sought to please her Domme. Even if it meant sneaking away on the balcony for Franky to whisper in her ear sending her center aching for her touch. It was the perfect type of foreplay. Watching the blonde become more and more flustered sent her soaring into the headspace she craved. Franky wasn’t even quite sure what banquet they were attending that evening. All she knew is that Erica’s onyx colored dress matched the garter underneath perfectly. Her hair was pulled back into a long ponytail that hung down the the length of her deep-cut back. It took every ounce of strength not to start pawing at her in the car as they drove. Franky was eager for the large open space of the banquet hall. Trapped inside a car with nothing but the smell of Erica’s perfume was quickly wearing away her defenses. She was more than ready to go hunting.  
  
Once they had arrived, Erica’s ice blue eyes sought out jade as she silently asked permission when the tray of champagne came by. Franky’s devilish grin spread across her face quickly.  
“Well aren’t you on your best behavior this evening,” Franky cooed in her ear before rewarding her with a flute of the bubbling liquid. “One and then nothing else but water, understand?” Her eyes hardened slightly.  
  
“Yes, Franky,” the blonde nodded accepting the glass and taking a small sip. The two navigated the crowded space as Erica mingled with various cohorts with Franky’s protective hand at her back. Occasionally she’d brush her thumb upwards along the delicate skin just to watch Erica shiver at the touch. While her hands meddled her eyes surveyed the crowd of the event. Lots of old familiar faces that made the rounds of the circuit. Donating sums of money that made even Franky’s head reel all because they could.  
  
“I’ll be right back.” She kissed Erica’s cheek before giving her a squeeze on the back of her neck. She made her way towards the bar in order to snag a bottle of water, but also to admire her beautiful submissive from a distance. She never liked to drink at these type of things, preferring to keep her wits about her. It made their little game of cat and mouse even more enjoyable. She leaned her elbows up against the bar with her trouser-clad legs planted in her heeled boots. Her eyes locked on target watching Erica’s eyes scanning the faces searching her out.  
  
“Do you mind if I slip in?” a feminine voice snapped her out of her daydream. Bridget Westfall was the last person she had expected to see this evening.  
  
“Why, Miss Westfall, it’s been too long.” The smile that crept over her face could have stopped traffic.  
  
“It has,” she breathed in agreement. Even with the high slit in her dress her cheeks began to flush at the sudden attention. “Do you mind?” she managed to motion towards the bar that Franky was effectively blocking. It wasn’t as if Bridget minded, she could have stayed ogling Franky’s suit-clad form all evening if had been socially acceptable.  
  
“Let me,” she responded before leaning towards the bartender. The next thing Bridget knew he was pouring a glass of crisp chardonnay. “Eileen Hardy, right?” Franky knew she was right even before the blonde nodded approvingly.  
  
“Thank you,” Bridget responded with a small smile appearing over her lips as she took the glass into her hand, careful to avoid contact with the brunette for fear she’d burn alive.  
  
“I feel like we haven’t seen each other in…” Franky tapered off.  
  
“Two months and five days.” Not that she was counting. Never in her life had Bridget been the overbearing girl who waited by the phone for someone to call. She was too busy off doing her own thing to worry about anyone. But now, here she was, about to do the unthinkable. It didn’t help that her Domme’s hair was pulled down from its standard ponytail, and instead the raven locks flowed freely over her shoulders.  
  
“Has it really?” Strong brows creased over jade colored eyes. Franky took the opportunity to allow them to glance over Bridget’s bare skin. She had foolishly forgotten how gorgeous the bare skin of those toned arms was. “You look great by the way.” she added with a smile.  
  
“You know very well how long it has been. When are you going to stop this?”  
  
“When your time is up, which according to you is in about, what, twenty six days?” She played coy well. She’d somehow managed to hide the fact that she genuinely missed the blonde before her. In all her years of practice, Franky had never encountered a submissive who had just fallen into her role so naturally. Not a single miscue or break of scene since they’d begun six months prior. If the Domme hadn’t been so strict with rules, she’d have lifted the punishment days after she had implemented it that’s how much she craved her.  
  
“Francesca, please, I’m...” she reached out to grip the woman’s elbow beneath the tailored blazer. The gentle touch sent a shot of electricity down her stomach to land between the crux of her legs. Unable to resist, Franky leaned in and brushed a stray hair back behind Bridget’s ear gently.  
  
“Begging?” the woman finished for her. “Then why aren’t you on your knees in position?” she whispered biting the supple skin of her bottom lip. Her eyes burned brightly on Bridget’s.  
  
“Here?” The blonde’s cheeks burned brighter at the sultry words. Her eyes broke away and glanced at the smattering of people around them. How could she forget where she was so quickly in her presence? “I can’t. Not here...” Bridget shook her head.  
  
Without another word, Franky’s hand gripped Bridget’s forearm pulling her out of the banquet hall and into the warm evening air of the balcony. She expertly backed the woman into the shadowed alcove where she positioned her arm to cage in her prey. Her other hand parted the slit of the flowing chiffon and held it safely in her hands. Bridget didn’t need any further instruction, she sank to her knees in front of her Domme, her head bowed lower than ever. The roughness of the concrete made the sensitive skin of her knees burn, but she didn’t give a fuck.  
  
“Please, Francesca,” Bridget breathed out pitifully. She wish she could have brought herself to care. At that moment she would have done anything to feel the woman’s hands on her flesh again, devouring her whole.  
  
“I’ve missed my good girl,” Franky purred out her admiration. She pulled the woman up from her pose and brought her into a biting kiss, her fingers dancing over the delicate skin of her neck. Bridget felt her head begin to spin just as the lights inside began to dim inside, signalling the crowd to take their seats.  
  
“I have to go, I’m speaking,” Bridget muttered in a panic. Franky silenced her worries with one more kiss before brushing her hand beneath the slit of the psychologist’s dress, making her gasp.  
  
“I will lift your punishment if you give me these,” the brunette brushed her hand over the strip of fabric along her partner’s waist. Without hesitation, Bridget slipped the lacy fabric over the curve of her arse, her eyes never once leaving her Domme. Franky took her time using her hands to pull the flimsy material the remainder of the way down those silky long legs. It took every ounce of strength within her not to reach her hand up and touch her heated core. The white thong made its way into Franky’s trouser pocket, out of sight. “I’ll see you soon, Miss Westfall,” Franky promised as she swaggered away without another glance backwards leaving Bridget panting for air and scrambling to her place. 

The remainder of the evening flew by as Franky found Erica and quickly headed towards their seats. Erica was still sipping happily at what she tried to pass off as her first glass. Franky knew better seeing the blonde trade out her empty just before she had finally spotted her stalking Domme. She decided to let the woman wait it out until they were on the way home. That way she'd think she'd gotten away with it. She'd really like to work out some of the frantic energy pulsing in her hands as she pawed at Bridget’s knickers in her pocket. Although Erica was not out in the public realm, the familiar faces seemed to accept their flirty friendship. It was hard to disapprove of Franky’s cheeky smile and remarkable wit. If Erica happened to attend an event with her husband, the guests always asked after the gorgeous brunette. Mark was too thick to realize the chemistry between them.  
  
Then she watched Bridget gracefully take to the stage without an ounce of shame painted anywhere near her face. If Franky didn't know any better, she would have sworn it was a completely different person, the way she was glowing under the soft lights. She spoke eloquently without a single misstep only proving to turn Franky on even more than she thought possible. Bridget Westfall was soaring high on that stage without a stitch of clothing under that sultry gown and no one in the audience was the wiser; except for her Domme. Then finally nearing the end of her speech, Bridget’s crystal eyes found her in the audience. “In conclusion, I’d like to leave you all with a quote, ‘Being brave isn't the absence of fear. Being brave is having a fear and finding that way through it.” She wrinkled her nose ever so slightly before she exited to the left of the stage and leaving the banquet hall. Miss Westfall, you cheeky minx.  
  
“Got to use the ladies,” Franky patted Erica’s knee before she ducked out of her seat towards the exit into the nearly deserted corridor. She found the woman on a quick walk towards the restrooms when she followed her in and locked the door behind them. A quick scan told her that the stalls were all empty, and no one was there to interrupt.  
  
“That was spectacular, Miss Westfall,” the brunette pressed the smaller woman into the pristine marble countertop. “I think you’ve earned a reward,” without any further instruction, the Domme used one hand to hold Bridget’s arms tightly behind her back. With her other hand, she unfastened the delicate leather of her belt and used it to secure the woman’s hands behind her back. Bridget’s heart throbbed in her chest at the speed of it all. The rush of speaking in front of the crowd completely bare, had left her head reeling. Now being bound and in her Domme’s hands couldn’t have pleased her more. Franky allowed her fingertips to run the length of Bridget’s restrained arms. “Look at yourself,” she commanded, using her hips to grind against the woman’s full arse. Her mouth dropped open to allow the small moan to escape, but Bridget’s eyes quickly flew up to look at herself in the mirror. She was not prepared for the reflection she saw staring back at her. “Did it turn you on being up there in front of all those people without these?” Franky asked as she pulled Bridget’s slip of underwear from her pocket. She set them on the countertop in front of them.  
  
“Yes!” Bridget nodded, her breath coming in even pulls.  
  
“You are such a good girl,” she praised using the tip of her toe to spread Bridget’s legs a little further. Her hand made the long trek from the over-sensitive skin of Bridget’s inner thigh to her quivering sex.  
  
It didn’t take more than a few seconds for Franky to realize how turned on her beautiful blonde was after her evening of impromptu training. Her slender fingers were coated in Bridget’s wetness as she purposefully ran the length of the woman’s slit without paying any attention to her clitoris. Instead Franky focused her attention on using the tip of her finger to circle over her entrance. Seeking the sweet feel of fullness, Bridget pressed herself downwards onto the digit as she pushed herself back against Franky tighter. She could feel the Domme’s hot breath moaning over the bare skin of her neck. She knew the blonde in her hands was only a few more strokes away from her impending climax. She cupped her hand over the woman’s excited sex using her palm to rub over her sensitive clitoris. The focused touch had her panting within minutes.  
  
“Permission!” Bridget gasped at the added pressure. She ground her hips as much as her limited range would allow.  
  
“Not yet,” Franky responded with a twisted smile on her face. Bridget’s bound hands clawed against her pants trying to gain any leverage she could to stave off her climax. “Fight it,” the Domme commanded making eye contact with her sub through the fogging glass of the mirror in front of them. Bridget bit her bottom lip harshly trying to hold back her scream. She felt the slow and powerful throbbing in her centre slowly shoot upwards towards her navel. She was left with her toes on the edge of the cliff, almost ready to topple over to the unknown. Her dress had fallen down her shoulder to reveal an obscene amount of cleavage. Her mind told her to be scared of the sensations her body was experiencing, but the only thing Bridget was able to focus on was pulling in solid pulls of air in through her nose and out through her mouth. “Look at me,” the low voice purred into her ear, forcing her eyes to focus on her Domme’s jade colored eyes through the mirror.  
  
“Please, Mistress!” Bridget begged wantonly, digging her nails into Franky’s thigh.  
  
“Let go.” The match was lit as Franky’s hand worked Bridget through her powerful climax, using her free hand to wrap around the small waist of her submissive to keep her from falling to the floor.  
  
Franky’s hands stayed on her overheated skin until she was absolutely positive she would remain standing without her support. She quickly unlinked her belt from Bridget’s arms. Bridget couldn’t help but notice her fingers were still tingling slightly. The brunette had them under the cool stream of the sink in no time.  
  
“Leave ‘em there, it'll help,” she instructed before using the other sink to wash her own hands. She used her damp fingers to smooth back the few out of place strands of her hair. As she watched her her rethread her belt through her trousers, Bridget felt a wave of serenity wash over her skin. It was almost as if she was watching herself in a dreamlike state. There was no way the woman reflected back was the same Bridget Westfall who had entered. Her cheeks radiated brightness. She looked freshly fucked, and she didn't care who knew it.  
  
“Coming back down to me, little kite?” The grinning brunette snapped her from her thoughts as she inspected Bridget’s forearms. The psychologist hadn’t realize how tightly she had pulled against her restraints until she saw the red lines of color.  
  
“Shit,” she murmured.  
  
“Not to worry,” Her Domme shrugged off her tailored blazer and draped it over Bridget’s shoulders. She used the tips of her fingers to lift Bridget’s chin upwards enough to meet her eyes before they swiped that same pesky piece of hair back into place. Franky’s lips danced over hers in one more passionate embrace that ended much too soon. She quickly tucked Bridget’s discarded underwear back into the safety of her jacket pocket around Bridget’s form. Franky unlocked the door before holding it open for Bridget to step back out into the dimly lit corridor. The thundering applause from the banquet hall keyed the women on the fact that the presentation had ended. She could feel the hair on the back of her neck tingle as Erica’s dark eyes locked on hers from across the long corridor. She looked positively green with envy. Franky led Bridget towards her with a careful hand placed on the small of her back.  
  
“Hello, darling,” Franky greeted the seething blonde with a kiss on the cheek and stroking the small of her back delicately. Her hand stayed there while Erica became flustered at the attention in front of the large crowd. Her eyes darted around for any sign of onlookers. Franky, on the other hand, knew that they’d all had a enough glasses of champagne to not give a fuck how she chose to touch her gorgeous blonde friend. Bridget couldn’t keep her eyes from bulging at the sight. Erica Davidson was absolutely lethal in the legal field. She’d been on the receiving end of a few subpoenas from Erica’s firm, and even in emails she seemed like a heartless bitch. “This is-”  
  
“Ms. Westfall.” The woman in black responded allowing her eyes to scan over Bridget’s form.  
  
“Hello again, Ms. Davidson,” she shorter woman nodded politely. Franky’s lips curled into a smile at the corners as the realization finally clicked. Holy fuck, they knew each other? She raised her eyebrows towards Erica expectantly.  
  
“Our paths have crossed a few times,” the tall blonde explained quickly, her eyes remaining hardened on the lighter blue tone of the woman in blue. She’d thankfully left the part out about Bridget referring to her as a “heartless bitch” during their first encounter. Now here they were face to face with Franky’s leather trimmed blazer placed over the little blonde’s shoulders. “How’s the practice?” Erica asked politely. “Still working in corrections? I never did understand your fascination with those women.” Bridget was good at her profession. Hell, she was probably one of the top ranked psychologists in Melbourne. She could have a private practice and rake in the cash, but instead she chose to work with convicted women who were just as deserving of good care. The money wasn’t the reason she did what she did; it was the women.  
  
“Well not everyone is cut out for it, I suppose. It takes a lot of...heart,” Bridget fired back. If Erica didn’t know any better, she’d say Bridget had looked like a cat that just ate the whole fucking canary. The tension between the two was palpable.  
  
“They really mean it when they say Melbourne’s finest, don’t they?” Franky nodded  
  
towards the blondes, her tongue trapped between her sharp teeth.  
  
“We should really be on our way.” Erica’s eyes shifted towards the door. She was itching to get away from the crowd and into Franky’s bed with her wrists bound. She wasn’t fond of the feeling that she got when she saw the way Franky’s eyes danced over the psychologist’s sexy dress.  
  
“I need to get home as well. It was lovely to see you both. Francesca,” she nodded and shrugged Franky’s jacket from her shoulders. “Thank you for this, it’s always so cold at these things.” She then turned her eyes towards Erica. “Erica, say hello to Mark for me,” Bridget added with a hint of a smile on the corners of her lips. Franky almost laughed out loud at the serve. Not only did she know who Erica was, she knew who she was engaged to as well. Just when she thought she had the petite woman figured out, there she went again surprising her. 

 

 

By the time that the couple had made their way home in the world’s most silent drive, Erica was leading the way towards her favorite room of the house. She stood before the locked door waiting patiently for her Domme to follow.  
  
“Well how bold of you, Miss Davidson. I don’t recall saying that we would be playing this evening.”  
  
“Please, Mistress,” Erica cast her eyes downward onto Franky’s boots.  
  
“You’ve been a very bad girl. Drinking more than you were told.”  
  
“I…” Even with her head down, Franky could see her eyes widen at Franky’s observation.  
  
“Don’t lie to me, Erica.”  
  
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”  
  
“You don’t look very sorry to me.”  
  
Erica dropped to the floor, her head bowed so low.  
  
“I’m so sorry, Mistress.”  
  
“Now that’s better,” Franky brushed her hand over the crown of her submissive’s head. She let her fingertips trail down over the soft skin of her jaw until she tugged her chin upwards forcing eye contact between them.  
  
“Strip and cuff yourself. Now,” she demanded. She then unlocked and opened the door allowing the blonde to slip inside and prepare for what was likely to be a long and intense session with a very worked up Franky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments and critiques are so greatly appreciated! I really hope you are enjoying this as much as I love sharing it with you!


	5. Le lion et l'agneau

Franky’s eyes had been on fire for the last several hours of Erica Davidson’s punishment. Once she’d unlocked the door and admitted the blonde inside, she stripped and presented herself with her head bowed low. Her attitude had quickly changed once she knew she’d been caught after her misstep at the evening’s event. The Domme knew that she shouldn’t have given in. She should have dismissed Erica like a child to their room without dinner. But she was weak after her exchange with the blonde psychologist. And now she just wanted to fuck. Watching from her leaned position against the doorway, Franky took her in.  
  
“What am I going to do with you, Miss Davidson?” She asked the nude woman.  
  
“Whatever you want, Mistress.” Erica’s voice was low as she stared at the floor.  
  
“I should just leave you here all night on your knees after what you’ve done.”  
  
“I’m so sorry, Mistress,” she tried once more, but the brunette was not buying it.  
  
“Talk is cheap, Erica. You disobeyed me.” Franky’s boots clicked against the floor as she came to stand directly in front of her submissive. “You know what happens when you disobey me don’t you?” Franky reached out and brought the blonde’s glance up from the floor to make eye contact.  
  
“I get punished, Mistress,” she whispered finally accepting her fate. Franky’s touch was gone as she went to a closed cabinet and retrieved the necessary items for her penance. She made her way back to her sub before tossing cuffs into her lap. “Cuff yourself, and get on the bed,” Franky snarled out waiting for her to follow instructions. Erica quickly wrapped the smooth leather cuffs on her wrists and stood beside the bed, pausing. “Did I not make myself clear?” Franky voice came louder than before.  
  
“How do you want me, Mistress?” she asked. At least her betrayal that evening hadn’t made her lose her head. The command had been a set up. If she’d climbed onto the bed, Franky would have punished her for being in the wrong position, and if she didn’t she’d get called out for not following the original instructions. It appeared that Erica had been listening after all.  
  
“I want you on your back, now.” Erica complied and did as she was told. Franky linked both her wrists and ankles to the bed. She then retrieved the gag from the waiting pile of toys and secured it in that beautiful mouth. “Look at me.” Blue eyes flashed open. The Domme then deposited a small bell into the sub’s palm. “If you ring it, I will slow. If you drop it, I will stop. Nod if you understand me.” Erica nodded feverishly, desperate for the scene to begin. Franky loved gagging her, but it was always necessary to make sure that leaving her speechless didn’t render her absolutely powerless. While she considered herself an expert on Erica Davidson’s desires, it didn’t mean she could be careless. Once she was convinced that Erica understood, she began.  
  
She wasted no time with foreplay before starting with Erica’s mound. She began a slow and deliberate massage of her sex, letting the woman’s arousal gather on the tips of her fingers. Her nimble fingers were skilled in the art of pleasing the blonde better than anyone. She knew how to bring the woman to the brink of an orgasm without so much as breaking a sweat. Within minutes of her caresses she could hear the familiar hitch in Erica’s breathing as all the indication she needed. Without a second thought, she removed her hands. The blonde groaned at the loss of touch and tried her to thrust herself up to get more. Franky stood in her line of sight and brought the fingers towards her lips to lap up the woman’s taste. Then she left the room, leaving Erica bound and panting while she retrieved herself a bottle of water from the fridge. By the time she returned, her sub’s breathing had settled back down.  
  
So she began again, slow gradual touches added with pressing her fingertips at the  
  
woman’s entrance. She spread her legs as much as she could considering her ankles were restrained. Anything to give her Domme more access to where she needed her. Franky slid the length of her middle finger home inside her slick heat and was rewarded with a low groan from her beautiful sub. Once, twice, three times she thrust the digit until it was coated thickly with the woman’s arousal. And then she stopped once more. Erica practically howled at the loss of touch.  
  
Again and again she continued working her to the brink of climax before ceasing all touch and beginning again. The process continued until Erica had lost all track of time, all she could think about was her Domme. Franky had worked the trembling woman up to two fingers and her eyes were rolling towards the back of her head. The touch was ripped away once more. She screamed and tugged hard against the cuffs linking her to the bed. Her eyes searched for the brunette’s to wordlessly beg her. When she saw the look on Erica’s eyes, her breath was lost from inside of her body. She looked positively feral as her eyes hardened on her Domme. Franky couldn’t hold herself back any longer, desperate to take the edge off. Franky stripped herself and climbed on the bed over Erica’s chest. She began to slowly touch herself watching Erica’s eyes narrow even further.  
  
“Do you want to come?” Franky asked down to her sub. The blonde nodded tugging at her restraints once more. She reached back behind Erica’s head and released the gag from her mouth instantly replacing it with her sex. “Then earn it,” Franky commanded as she began a slow grind down to her sub’s waiting mouth. After everything she’d done that evening, it was an accomplishment that she didn’t come the moment the blonde’s lips wrapped around her throbbing clit. She’d been ready to pop from the public sex with Bridget and even more now with Erica’s taste on her lips. Her head was practically spinning. She felt her orgasm building low in her stomach as she continued to forcefully rock herself on that delicious fucking mouth. Silently, she came as she held herself up on headboard allowing Erica to lap up any last vestiges of her cum. Once she’d finally felt more level headed, she removed herself from the bed and unhooked Erica’s ankles from their restraint. She quickly slid the harness and strapon over her hips and returned to her girl.  
  
“Please, Mistress,” Erica whimpered. Her lips were glistening with Franky’s own juices as she pouted. Franky leaned over her and kissed her roughly, taking care to taste her own sex mixed with Erica’s. She swiped two fingers up the length of Erica’s slit before using them to lubricate the thick strapon now resting at the woman’s entrance. “Please!” she begged desperately as tears flowed from the corners of her eyes.  
  
Franky began to work the length into her slowly. Although she wanted nothing more than to slam in to the hilt, she knew that with little preparation, it would not be wise or enjoyable for her perfect muse. So she took her time rolling her hips and adding more length with each careful thrust. A calm washed over Erica’s skin as she was finally given what she’d been asking for. Franky wrapped the woman’s legs around her waist and speed her hips.  
  
“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” Erica’s words flew from her mouth without waiting for them to filter through her brain. Once upon a time, Franky had trouble getting her to admit her true desires out loud, but that was miles away from where they were now. Now the blonde said what was on her mind the moment it passed through her synapses. She knew that when she said what she wanted, her Domme would always oblige. Franky then buried the cock all the way into the base causing her to release a low contented sigh at the feeling of fullness she had been searching for. Her hips had began their own trusts down, desperate for more. Franky listened to her, she forced herself up on an elbow and used her other hand to grip the woman’s thigh to gain the leverage that she needed to fuck her as forcefully as she saw fit.  
  
“Oh, Franky!” Her moan shook the room. Franky pulled her down again and again watching her implode as the pleasure overtook her body in waves. It started with the quivering in her legs and then the tight pull of her taut stomach. The last to go were her eyes, they struggled to stay open as her body was almost completely washed over by the waves.  
  
“Come for me,” Franky permitted as she continued her hard thrusts. She came powerfully in a matter of seconds with a loud moan and her back arched wildly off the bed. The brunette waited as she rode through the aftershocks before she pulled the length out; with it came a rush of liquid. She smiled in awe of Erica fucking Davidson. She ditched the harness on the floor and undid the restraints at the head of the bed. Immediately the blonde’s arms were around her neck. Franky picked her up and carried her away from the room, leaving the mess for later. She mounted the stairs to the bedroom carefully so as not to disturb her beautiful muse. Once inside her room, she deposited her safely down on her side of the bed.  
  
“Do you want to shower with me?” Franky asked the sleepy woman who gave a very brief shake of her head before her eyes closed. She smiled softly and shook her head. Erica was notorious for falling fast asleep after a good fuck whereas it left Franky feeling wired. She kissed her forehead and pulled up the duvet before she retreated into the en suite. Her muscles ached from the long day, but it was nothing a long shower couldn’t cure. The events of the night played back in her mind like that of a film as her head slipped under the stream. She took care to wash her thick length of hair carefully since her night with Erica had left it sweat soaked and sticking to the back of her neck. When it was rinsed clean she set to work washing her body methodically until she reached the tattooed skin of her side. She’d gotten so good at ignoring the scars that lay within the tight little cherry blossom buds itched into her skin. The tattoo had done well to hide them from most prying eyes, but nothing would ever get rid of way they felt against her fingertips. Erica had always done her best to avoid touching that part of her, knowing how troubled it left her Domme. They’d never even spoken of what had caused the tight circles, and for that Franky was always grateful. She didn’t want a reason for Erica to take pity on her. Not when she was supposed to be the one controlling her. Any weakness didn’t make her feel like the domineering figure she wanted to be. She shook her head and finished up, determined not to let herself fall back under to the dark places she’d once been.  
  
When she’d finished she wrapped herself in a towel and padded back downstairs to clean up. She’d retrieved all of hers and Erica’s discarded clothing before her eyes fell upon a small white scrap of fabric laying alone from where she’d pulled her blazer. Erica had worn black that evening, so what was this? Her eyes hardened as she leaned down to pick it up to investigate further. The white thong instantly sparked her memory. Bridget, she thought as a smile painted over her face. She made her way back upstairs to deposit the dirtied garments within her hamper. Picking up her phone she sat on her side of the bed. She quickly typed out the email and hit send before collapsing into bed and promptly falling to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments are always appreciated!


	6. Le sadisme et le masochisme

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: BDSM

Bridget was downright giddy when she received the email confirmation for her next session with Franky the following week. Her heart swelled with a sense of twisted pride at the sheer excitement that her time with franky at the gala had caused. The professional woman she normally was would have never allowed any sort of activity to take place at a work event. Her reddened forearms remained as a souvenir that the sultry events actually took place.  
  
She took careful care to dress simply in a white cotton dress knowing that the color was her Madame’s weakness. The lingerie underneath would only further push her over the edge, Bridget silently prayed.  
  
When Franky answered the door, she hardly even made eye contact with Bridget before opening the door and ushering her inside.  
  
“Hello, Madame,” the psychologist purred with a coy smile. Franky’s remained almost stoic.  
  
“This way Bridget.” The tall brunette walked quickly towards the door at the end of the hall. “I’d like you to take that off before we enter, please,” she nodded her head towards the blonde. Bridget complied instantly allowing her trembling hands to unbutton her dress and let it fall in a halo around her. Her Domme’s eyes darkened instantly as the delicate white lace of her knickers came into view. “Those too,” it pained her to say.  
  
“Yes, Francesca.” She nodded and obliged the requests. She was slightly confused at what acts lay ahead of her on the other side of the door, but also already aroused.  
  
“Are you ready?”  
  
“Yes, Madame,” Bridget nearly panted as she received her first instructions in nearly three months.  
  
Franky could hardly believe the increase in Bridget’s demeanor since their first session. From the moment she entered the home, it was as if she was already in her role. The blonde seemed centered and ready. It even seemed as if Bridget didn’t need to be told to fall to her knees with her head bowed. She did it because she wanted to, and it only served to fuel Franky even further into that headspace she craved. She hadn’t even needed any corrections to her posture because it was flawless.  
  
“That’s perfect, Miss Westfall,” she praised with a gentle caress of the woman’s cheek. “What are your words?”  
  
“Jasmine and Crimson.” Her eyes never once raised from Franky’s boot-clad feet.  
  
“Good. I’d like to continue to work on building stamina today. That means that our session will be longer than it has been previously. It also means you need to work hard to earn your climax today.”  
  
“Yes, Madame,” her voice was no more than a whisper.  
  
“In bed, on your knees. Now,” Franky commanded in a low tone. Bridget stood and climbed onto the leather mattress, the material cooling her already heated flesh. Once she was settled, Franky wrapped the leather cuffs around her wrists before linking them above her head so she was resting somewhat comfortably on her knees. The blonde squirmed slightly feeling exposed to the world. “Are you comfortable?” Franky asked snapping her back. She nodded unable to open her lips as she saw her Domme retrieving the riding crop from the cabinet. She heard the air cut before she felt the sting against her left arsecheek. She gasped loudly feeling the surge of pain shoot through her body. “I asked you a question, Bridget.”  
  
“Yes!” She panted. Her right cheek was greeted with a matching mark.  
  
“Yes, what?” the Domme demanded.  
  
“Yes Madame!” Her hips tried desperately to pull away, seeking any relief from the throbbing pain under her sensitive skin. This sensation was entirely new to the blonde. They’d never started with such an intense act so quickly in their sessions before. It left her feeling breathless, but surging with excitement.  
  
“Good girl,” Franky praised as she ran her hands over Bridget’s firm arse to soothe the stings left behind by her ministrations. The lightly tanned skin had already started to redden. Her sub’s back was arched as she presented herself unconsciously. She was absolutely stunning. All Franky wanted to do was just reach down and take her roughly until all she could do was moan. Focus, she warned herself taking a deep breath to steady her nerves. Quickly, she shook the feeling and grasped the silk tie laying on the table nearby. She tied it over Bridget’s eyes, eliciting a tiny whimper as the black fabric shut out the world. Trying to ease her nerves, Franky’s slender hands set to work rubbing any tension from the woman’s back and legs. Her skin was so impossibly soft against her palms as she massaged the blonde delicately. Her breathing sunk into a rhythm while her Domme continued to soothe away the worry in her muscles. Once she had lulled the woman back into a state of peace, she wrapped her hand around the leather handle of the crop before running it along the inside of Bridget’s thighs. The brunette swore she could see the hair raise on the back of Bridget’s neck.  
  
“You have six more, understood?” she said evenly.  
  
“Yes, Madame,” Bridget nodded her head feeling her heart pound anxiously in her chest. Franky took her time applying the next strikes methodically over her creamy skin. Each time the crop cut the air to smack loudly, it was met with a deep intake of breath by the bound blonde. Woosh, smack, gasp, the rhythm continued. Woosh, smack, gasp.  
  
Bridget panted, her hands clenched into fists as she waited for the last sweet sting to strike her. But it never came.  
  
“Please,” the blonde whimpered desperately. Just when Franky thought she was going to call, she heard the woman moan: “More,” before the thought processed in her brain. All Bridget knew was she wanted the painful throb that came when the leather came into contact with her heated skin.  
  
“Excuse me?” Tsk, tsk, Ms. Westfall, you were doing so good, Franky thought.  
  
“I think you’ve missed one, Madame,” Bridget’s body was rigid as she waited for any sense of movement from her Domme. Without her sight, she had begun to rely on her ears for any indication of where she was. Franky cursed herself silently. Had she really gotten so caught up in listening to the little gasps and moans escaping the woman’s mouth that she fucking miscounted? Amateur move, Doyle. Her blood boiled at the fact that the beautiful blonde had thrown her off her normally pristine game.  
  
“Are you saying that I cannot count properly?” she spat her words harshly.  
  
“No, Madame,” Bridget shook her head, her body squirming in its ties.  
  
“Then why not, just to be safe, you count these next eight aloud.” Bridget nearly squealed with excitement. “I wouldn’t want to miscount again.” The first few strokes came rhythmically with a few seconds between them allowing Bridget to pull air into her lungs to prepare for the next one.  
  
“Un, deux, trois,” the blonde was counting aloud in French while a slight smile ticked across her face. She was living for this. With hardly any time to catch her breath, the next two strikes were harder and closer towards the sensitive skin of her thighs, causing her to squeak with surprise. Instinctively her legs slammed shut, hiding the overly sensitive skin from further scrutiny of her Domme.  
  
“Four, five,” She sputtered, her skin was now pulsing underneath the crop’s lashes.  
  
“Keep them open, Miss Westfall,” she instructed sternly waiting for Bridget’s shaking legs to spread back open. Seconds later she tagged her once more on the other side to even her out. She yelled out and pulled at the restraints on her wrists. Before she had a chance to catch her breath, Franky struck once more just under the delicate curve of her arse. Bridget cried once more shaking her cuffs until they rattled. They didn’t budge from their secure hole above the woman.  
  
“I’m waiting,” Franky stepped around to her front and searched Bridget’s body for any hints of discomfort. She’d never pushed the blonde this far before, so it was necessary to insure she was still alright. The sight she saw knocked the breath from her lungs. Bridget’s lithe form was tethered tight above her, making sure she was unable to retract from the strikes that her Domme provided. She was panting in slow steady breaths, her chest rising and falling. The evidence of her arousal was coating her inner thighs as she struggled to keep her legs open. The submissive appeared to be struggling to stay in the present. Her lips were parted in an attempt to speak, but no sound was coming out. “Bridget,” she tried once more, ready to end the scene if necessary. Call it, Bridget, please, Franky begged in her mind.  
  
“Six, seven, Madame.” She said calmly, all tension relaxing from her body as she submitted to whatever was to come. Franky smiled. She brushed the end of the crop starting at one knee all the way up her taut stomach before tracing it back down. Bridget’s head fell back exposing herself to the touch. Franky’s boots clicked against the floor as she returned to her backside. After several moments of absolute silence, she struck that perfect arse one last time with all she had. Bridget moaned uninhibitedly as she screamed, “Eight!”  
  
Unable to wait any longer, Franky tore the blindfold off her eyes, causing Bridget to blink as she adjusted to the dim light of the room. Franky’s lips were on hers instantly in a deep, biting kiss. Instantly Franky’s hand dipped within her slick folds and she stroked her heated core. Bridget gasped against her lips, the only thing keeping her upright were the restraints fastened above her. Her legs were shaking as she tried desperately to keep herself from her impending orgasm without receiving the proper permission. Sans warning, Franky entered her swiftly with two fingers filling her already throbbing pussy. The submissive moaned so loudly the room shook with her desperation. Franky’s lips were on hers in another rough kiss.  
  
“Come for me,” she instructed fucking her forcefully. Bridget then came with a howl as she held tightly to the restraints above her, every inch of her body being lit up like fireworks were exploding within her. Her body was quaking uncontrollably as she came in wave after wave of pleasure. Suddenly, she felt like she was floating away from her body, completely unaware of time and space around her. The room went dark and all she was able to feel was the warm, tingling sensation over every inch of her skin.

Subspace was such a beautiful thing. While she’d never actually experienced the phenomenon herself, Franky had been gifted in the art of carefully administering it to several of her most well-trained submissives. She reveled in the feeling it gave her to send them soaring. With just her skilled hands she could send them higher than any drug they would take. Although she hadn’t expected its intensity to happen so soon from Bridget Westfall. Their trust was just building and yet here the blonde was slipping under. My, how she trusted her so completely. The woman was teeming with hidden surprises that left Franky breathless with admiration.  
  
Once her hips had finally stopped shuddering from her climax, Franky unhitched her carefully from the ceiling rig above. She then removed the wrist cuffs, taking her time to squeeze the woman’s hands to return the blood circulation to the pale digits. Even just moments after their passionate scene, Franky knew that the woman’s skin was rapidly cooling. She opened the closet and retrieved the white fluffy robe and wrapped it around the petite woman.  
  
“Bridget, I’m going to pick you up now, alright?” Although she knew Bridget would be unable to respond verbally, she knew the importance of communication in these moments. Aftercare was more important than anything in order to provide a meaningful Domme/sub relationship. Carefully Franky took Bridget into her arms, minding the red stripes along her legs and bum. She carried her upstairs towards the already prepared bedroom. The oil diffuser was carefully releasing the calming scent of lavender into the air. A thought popped into her head that caused the brunette to pause at the door. After a moment’s hesitation she continued down the corridor to her own bedroom. For some reason it had just felt right to her to bring her there to rest together. Gracefully she laid Bridget in the king-sized bed, her head resting against the soft pillows beneath her. Franky then set to work caring for her girl. She tended to her backside first. The delicate striped pattern filled the Domme with a sense of accomplishment. She first slathered a layer of cooling aloe over the welted skin, to soothe the sting and then added a smattering of arnica and vitamin K cream to a few of the deeper welts to hinder bruising. They’d be gone soon enough leaving nothing but the memory of their session behind. Although she didn’t feel it now in the land of subspace, Franky knew that the discomfort would settle back into her consciousness soon enough, so it was better to tend to it sooner rather than later. She then fetched a bottle of a sports drink and cracked it open. She let her hand fall to the back of Bridget’s neck, sitting her up a tiny bit. The woman’s mouth opened, but she emitted no sound.  
  
“Please drink some of this,” she asked softly, coaxing her to take a few sips from the bottle. Bridget’s heavy-lidded eyes were glassed over as she settled on Franky’s face. The brunette smiled down to her overflowing with pride. “You did so well, Bridget. I’m so proud of you.” Franky brushed her hand over her cheek until she let it rake through her loose blonde locks. The submissive leaned towards the soft touch, causing Franky to continue petting her gently allowing herself to rest beside her on the plush mattress. Bridget was in her arms in a matter of moments. She continued to run gentle touches over her submissive, bringing her back down to earth slowly. Without warning, she tilted her head upwards seeking out green eyes. Franky watched on as she gave her the most serene smile she’d ever seen. She leaned down and kissed the girl. She seemed so far away even if she was safely nestled in Franky’s strong arms. The Domme’s chest filled with absolute pride as she gazed down upon the soaring woman. I did that, she thought. 

Bridget wasn’t sure how much time had passed as her eyes blinked back into focus taking in the sight of the bedroom. Although it wasn’t the same white room she had grown accustomed to. This one was much larger and the walls were a delicate shade of blue. Where was she? And how had she gotten there? Her Domme had carried her, of course. But where had she carried her? Once her brain felt less clouded she lifted her head to glance around. Even if she was able to move, speech still seemed impossible for some reason.  
  
“We’re in my bedroom. You’re safe.” Franky’s soothing tone relaxed her instantly with a gentle caress to her cheek. Bridget turned towards the touch, there she saw her Domme who was cradling her in strong, toned arms. The blonde inhaled deeply the comforting scent of sandalwood and lavender upon the bare skin of her arm. Franky had stripped herself of her standard black button up in favor of a sleeveless top of the same color. She was beginning to think maybe the Domme didn’t wear color at all when suddenly her eyes took in the swirls of colorful ink etched on her skin. Both arms were covered in beautiful tattoos that nearly rendered Bridget devoid of air. The bicep of one arm was painted with a naked bust of a woman with arms extended over her head. The woman was beautiful in all her confident glory. She immediately recognized the tattoo wasn’t just there for beauty; It was the mark of the Domme. Her eyes flitted to the other side to see what the skin held. She stared in awe of the intricate feathers that began at her forearm and lead upwards to a striking bird along with its wings spread wide in flight. In its claws were the remnants of a shattered clock with broken pieces bursting from the center. The psychologist couldn’t stop herself from bringing her fingertips to touch over the beautiful skin as she traced it carefully.  
  
“You have tattoos,” she finally found her voice. The brunette laughed quietly at the obvious statement, but nodded just the same. “They’re beautiful.” If Bridget’s eyes weren’t still adjusting to the light of the room, she could have sworn she saw the woman’s cheeks turn red.  
  
“How are you feeling?” Franky asked, ignoring the praise entirely. She never dealt well with compliments, so instead she just preferred to pretend that she didn’t hear them. It was better that way for both parties involved. No feelings got hurt, and no one got attached. Bridget stretched her limbs and was met with a low stinging sensation against her back. She winced slightly, but also enjoyed the reminder of what they’d just done. If she didn’t have the mild pain to remind her, she wouldn’t have believed it was real. “I was waiting until you ate to get you something for the pain. We can do that now if you’d like?” Franky’s face creased with worry.  
  
“Can I see?” Bridget asked letting her hand reach back to gently touch the smooth curve of her bum. It stung slightly, but not like how she imagined it would. She’d imagined not being able to sit or lay on her backside, but yet here she was, managing to turn her body with minimal discomfort. Franky helped her out of bed and led her towards the floor length mirror against the wall. She helped Bridget remove her robe so she could see for herself.  
  
Her skin was not the massacre she’d expected. There were only a few angry red lines striped on her legs and arse. Amazingly, the two sides of her matched in perfect harmony. No doubt by the careful administration of her Domme.  
  
“It’s beautiful,” she stated in awe before standing on her toes to wrap her arms around Franky’s shoulders. She melted against the woman’s form. Franky allowed herself to gaze upon her craftsmanship through the mirror. What she wouldn’t give to photograph the reddened flesh.  
  
And then without warning, Bridget was on her knees with her hands around Franky’s thighs. She looked up through those thick eyelashes until they landed on hungry green eyes.  
“Please?” The blonde whispered a soft plea up to the tall brunette. Franky stood dumbfounded and unable to speak a word. Bridget’s hands crept up her muscular thighs coming to pause at the zipper of her trousers. “Please?” She asked again, more desperate than before.  
  
Franky shook her head quickly. “Y-you don’t have to do that,” she stuttered.  
  
“I want to.” Blue eyes pleaded. She stood with her head in two vastly different spaces. Her Domme side knew that she should punish the woman for trying to lead. Her weak side combated with the fact that she had asked so nicely with that fucking gorgeous pout on her face. She felt like fire had began to burn her alive under the blonde’s delicate hands. Her tongue brushed over her full bottom lip before biting it down on straight sharp teeth. She wasn’t just hungry, she was starving to taste the woman who had taught her this new and exciting world.

Silence fell upon the room as green eyes battled with blue wordlessly.

And then Franky nodded so subtly it was almost invisible as she gave over her control. Bridget’s fingers set to work unzipping and sliding the tight slacks down the woman’s tanned thighs. Beneath she wore black boy briefs that only served to further accentuate the swell of her arse. Once she had safely removed them from both legs, she began to trail a line of kisses up her smooth thighs. Her knickers were damp, no doubt from her arousal at the previous scene they had just acted perfectly. Bridget was dipping her fingertips into the waistband allowing her nails to gently scratch the sensitive skin of her hip bones. The more skin she revealed, the more the blonde realized how muscular Franky was. Her hips dipped down in the shape of a V accentuating her smooth mound. It only served to fuel her more. She extended her back to be able to reach up and place a gentle kiss the top of the woman’s sex, deeply inhaling her own scent. God, she smelled delicious. Bridget then let her tongue slide lower until it hit the hood of her clit. The sudden change in direction made the woman’s legs tense. The blonde’s small hands carefully parted her lips so she could lean in and use the tip of her tongue to run up the length of her slit. She was met with a sharp intake of breath from the woman standing above her. Bridget let her instinct take over as she took her time to explore and taste every part of her. The further she continued only made the muscles in Franky’s legs strain with effort to remain standing. Unable to take it anymore, she pulled away.  
  
“No, please. I-“ the psychologist begged reaching up to pull her back to her mouth. Franky smiled sexily before sitting down on the edge of the bed and beckoning Bridget over. She crawled slowly on her hands and knees until she was resting at Franky’s bare feet. She ran her hands back up her long legs, carefully parting them to gain better access to her target. The new angle gave Bridget an unobstructed view of slick pink folds. Her tongue returned with more force this time as she was determined to finish her off.  
  
Franky’s hips stuttered, as she reached out a hand to grip Bridget’s shoulder to keep her in place. She threw her head back with her mouth open wide, but no sound aside from her panting breath came out. She glanced down to see Bridget’s blonde head bobbing down as she worked her towards the edge of the cliff. Bright blue orbs flashed up to meet hers just as Bridget flattened her tongue over her sex.  
  
“I-“ was all she could whisper before Bridget’s lips wrapped around her clit sucking the tender bud until she climaxed silently into the back of her hand. She fell back against the bed attempting to catch her lost breath. The blonde climbed onto the bed and settled next to her. Franky was unclothed from the waist down, but her top remained in the heat of the moment. Bridget let her hand dip underneath her tank to touch the supple skin that lay below the cotton. Instantly her hand was grabbed and shoved away roughly as Franky stood and pulled her pants back over her hips. She pulled her shirt down to safety.  
  
Bridget sat up, her head still reeling. Her Domme’s back was facing her as the woman smoothed her raven hair back into place.  
  
“Did I do something wrong?” Bridget quietly asked with concern. She suddenly realized that she was still naked as the air around the room cooled. Franky turned back and her face had softened.  
  
“No, sorry, we really need get you something to eat. Bridget, I think you should stay tonight. What we did tonight was really heavy. I don’t feel comfortable sending you home.” Franky tried her best to hide the shaking undertone in her voice. Why did she really want her to stay? Was it because she was concerned? Or because she liked the way the petite woman felt as she slept blissfully in her arms? Franky shook away the thought.  
  
“I’ve nothing to wear.” Bridget pulled the sheet over her chest. It was funny, in the safety of the playroom, she didn’t feel uncomfortable to be naked around the stoic woman, but here in her private quarters she felt exposed. Franky went to her dresser and retrieved the loungewear she had purchased and laundered in advance.  
  
“Those should fit,” Franky said softly as she set them on the blonde’s lap. Bridget laughed openly at the act. Suddenly feeling self conscious, she crossed her arms over her chest. “What?”  
  
“Nothing, it’s just, there you go again thinking of everything,” the psychologist shook her head. Franky smiled softly and nodded. “Can I have a shower first?”  
  
“It’s right through there. You can use anything that you’d like in there. Clean towels are in closet just inside. When you’re through, you should put some more of this on.” Franky handed her the container of aloe. I’ll get us something to eat.” Before she turned to exit the room, the brunette leaned down and kissed Bridget’s lips tenderly. “You really were amazing tonight, Bridget.”  
  
“So were you,” she responded honestly. Franky left the room before the goofy smile could light up her face.  
  
Bridget padded barefoot towards the en suite and set the soft sleep clothes on the counter top. The room was full of smooth and clean lines with large white subway tiles inside the glass walled shower. The shower head was mounted in the ceiling for the rainwater effect, and Bridget could hardly wait to try it out for herself. She turned the tap to start the shower and looked at herself in the mirror while she waited for the water to warm. The front of her looked completely normal, but when she turned around and peered over her shoulder she could see the red lines intersecting in the bright light of the room. She investigated further without the eyes of her Domme watching over her. Delicately she let the pads of her fingers touch one of of the red stripes. It felt raised compared to her untarnished skin, and stung mildly as she ran the length of it. But surprisingly the pain felt good. The mirror began to steam from the heat coming off the shower, so she stepped inside and washed herself from head to toe. The rainwater effect felt heavenly on her skin. The heat of the water stung her welts, so she took care to keep her backside out of the direct stream of water. When she’d finished, she carefully wrapped a fresh towel around herself wincing slightly at the sting.  
  
She towel dried her hair and applied the aloe generously to her back as instructed by her Domme. As she waited for it to dry, she let her eyes wander over the contents of the woman’s countertop. There were a few bottles of lotion and moisturizer that she brought to her nose and sniffed. A few smelled like the brunette, but a few of them smelled much too flowery to be hers. Confused, she set them back down before she noticed the glass toothbrush holder that contained two brushes. Why… Bridget’s eyes widened at the realization. The floral lotion and the toothbrush belonged to Erica Davidson. Utterly shocked and intrigued, Bridget dressed herself and made her way downstairs. She found Franky busy at the kitchen island cutting away.  
  
“Feel better?” Bridget nodded in response. Franky smiled towards her as she finished slicing a few more pieces of cheese for the charcuterie tray that she’d been working on. Bridget’s stomach rumbled at the sight. She hadn’t realized how hungry she had actually been. “I’m still finishing up the pasta, but I thought we could snack on this while we wait.” Franky snagged a grape and popped it into her mouth before she turned back to the stovetop to stir a saucepan.  
  
“Is there anything you can’t do?” Bridget asked as she took a seat at one of the waiting barstools. She quickly grabbed a few bites of food to fill the void in her stomach. Franky laughed lightly at the comment and turned back around to lean against the counter.  
  
She pondered briefly before responding: “Long division.” Bridget couldn’t contain her laughter as she continued nibbling at the plate in front of her.  
  
“But seriously all the planning, the careful consideration, and the cooking. Must impress Erica Davidson.” Franky’s eyes narrowed as she tried to follow the trail of breadcrumbs the blonde was dropping. “You’re with her, aren’t you?” She took a sip of water. The brunette remained silent and turned back to her cooking. “I saw you two together at the gala. It’s obvious there’s something there. Is she into… all this?” Curiosity was getting the better of Bridget, and she couldn’t stop herself. “That’s her toothbrush, isn’t it?” she pressed once more. Franky tossed the tea towel over her shoulder onto the countertop and turned back around, anger painted over every sharp edge of her face. Bridget’s heart began to race at the domineering look outside of the room. She’d never seen her look that way in everyday exchanges.  
  
“It’s none of your fucking business who I’m with or who I fuck. You’ll remember that if you want to continue to work with me.” She gritted through her clenched jaw. Bridget shivered at the menacing tone. “If you are going to keep asking stupid questions maybe you should just see yourself out.” No! Franky’s brain shouted after the words had tumbled out of her mouth. There her demon went again, running the show without her. She clenched her hands into fists at her sides, trying to calm the devil from escaping once more. Don’t scare her away, she’s fragile. Thankfully the blonde’s rapidfire question ceased and she remained seated at the island between them. The two stood still, waiting for each other’s next moves.  
  
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. I was just curious is all. It won’t happen again,” came Bridget’s stuttered apology as her eyes memorized the granite before her. She was much too scared to see that look in her Domme’s eyes that was lurking on the other side of the room.  
  
“I apologize for snapping at you, it was uncalled for. I just will not discuss other subs with you. It’s part of the confidentiality contracts.” Bridget nodded with her view still faced downwards. The brunette came to stand before her on the other side of the island pressing her palms to the cool surface. “But to answer your question, all I can say is that Miss Davidson and I are… friends. I’ll let you interpret that as you wish.” She wasn’t sure what caused her to disclose the information, but when she did, Bridget’s eyes returned up from the countertop. “By the way, how do you two know each other?” Franky asked as she lifted a piece of cheese towards her mouth.  
  
“She’s requested information from some of my clients for her cases before.” Franky whistled and turned to toss the now cooked noodles into the strainer within the sink. “She’s…”  
  
“A bitch?” Franky smirked as she tossed the now strained noodles into the sauce that had been simmering. She looked so at home in the kitchen, like it came as natural to her as breathing.  
  
“I wasn’t going to say that.” Bridget shook her head. It was obvious the two had a connection, she wasn’t going to mention anything that might cause anymore upset.  
  
“But you were thinking it.” Franky pointed at her with her index finger knowingly. How could she pick up everything so intuitively?  
  
“She just seems a little cold is all from the exchanges that we’ve had together.” Bridget hoped she had worded her evaluation kindly even if she wasn’t particularly fond of the leggy blonde. Some unknown feeling rattled her chest from within when she thought about the way the brunette had touched Erica. It was not the caress of a best mate, it was that of a lover. She touched her as if she knew every part of her. It made Bridget’s stomach turn. Was she jealous? How could she be jealous of a supposed relationship that might not even exist?  
  
“They don’t call her the ice queen for nothing,” the brunette mumbled as she plated their main course.  
  
“How do you know about that?” Bridget had frequently heard of the blonde lawyer referred to by that moniker, but how did she know that?  
  
“That is a long story for another time and place. You, eat this,” Franky instructed as she placed a large bowl of pasta in front of the blonde with a fork. “And then take these.” She then placed two white tablets beside her water. “It will help with the pain.”  
  
“I kind of like it actually,” Bridget spoke before realizing the words had even left her mouth. She flushed instantly at the admission and filled her mouth with pasta to avoid blurting anymore. Franky smiled brightly and laughed through her nose.  
  
“Well, aren’t you shaping up to be a little masochist,” She began to eat from her own bowl of pasta while standing at the counter.  
  
“What?” Bridget asked after swallowing her large bite of the delicious dish. Not only could the woman please her like any other person before, she could fucking cook.  
  
“I know you know what that means because I made you read those books. BDSM, bondage, discipline, dominance, submission, sadism, masochism. We’ve been working on all of these, but more recently we’ve gotten to the sadism and masochism. You derive pleasure from receiving pain, I derive pleasure from inflicting it,” she explained with ease.  
  
“How did you figure all this out?” Just was Bridget felt like she was gaining her bearings in this unknown world, her Domme went and said things like that that left her breathless all over again.  
  
“Again, that’s a long story for another time and place, Gidget.” Franky winked and stabbed a noodle with her fork before bringing it to her lips.  
  
“What did you call me?”  
  
“Gidget?” Bridget nodded in response. “I like it, it suits you. I need something to call  
  
you out of scenes.” She wasn’t sure what had caused her to use the pet name, but she had to admit, it really did suit the spunky blonde.  
  
“Well, what am I supposed to call you?” The brunette hesitated for a moment. She was torn if she should be truly open about herself with the beautiful blonde in her kitchen. She kept so little of herself private after all these years of practice. Her name seemed to be one of the few things she could manage to keep sacred. But hadn’t Bridget trusted her so implicitly? Hadn’t she shared so much? Franky had trusted her enough to share her own bedroom this evening as well as her body, maybe she could bend a little more.  
  
“It’s Franky,” she whispered.  
  
“It’s nice to meet you Franky,” Bridget smiled brightly.  
  
“Just eat your food, Gidge.” Franky shook her head to hide the blinding smile that consumed her face.


	7. L'origine de la muse.

It wasn’t often in their relationship that Erica allowed Franky to take her out on “dates”, but tonight was a special occasion so she permitted it. She’d told Mark that Franky needed a plus one for a friend’s wedding which explained why she was dressed to the nines in a stunning emerald dress. She picked the shade because it matched the color of Franky’s eyes perfectly, but her fiance would never know that. Lying to him had stopped bothering her long ago. She reasoned with herself that being with Franky made her a better person. With her frequent trips to Franky’s bed, it left her feeling sated and calm. It centered her so she could focus on being what everyone expected her to be: doting daughter, confidant lawyer, and loving fiance. If the rest of the world only knew what darkness she really craved.  
  
The two sat together at the renowned Vue du Monde restaurant sharing an  
  
outrageously priced bottle of champagne to celebrate after a truly exquisite meal. They were now sharing a chocolate souffle for dessert. Conversation had always come easy to the pair of them and they never tired of subjects to talk about. Franky was cunning, and Erica was always intrigued.  
  
“How has it been five years already?” Erica shook her head in disbelief. Time seemed to stand still when they were together. The lights of the city were twinkling from the buildings below from the length of windows.  
  
“Time flies when you’re having fun, isn’t that what they say?” Franky said as she  
  
retrieved a long jewelry box from the pocket of her suit jacket. She slid it across the table slowly until it came to rest directly beside Erica’s hand. “Happy anniversary,” Franky cooed with a smile. Erica’s heart was fluttering already.  
  
“You said you didn’t want gifts,” the blonde admonished her.  
  
“I don’t want anything, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to be treated,” she explained as she waited for Erica to crack the box open. Intrigue got the better of her, and she slowly opened it to reveal a beautiful silver choker with a dainty O-ring at the center. To the untrained eye it just appeared to be a simple necklace, but both Franky and Erica knew that it was so much more than that. It was the marker of a submissive.  
  
“Franky…” Erica gasped as her fingertips traced over the beautiful gift. “It’s perfect,” she smiled brightly towards her Domme from across the table.  
  
“Would you like to put it to use this evening?”  
  
“You mean?” Her blue eyes lit up.  
  
“You thought this was dessert?” Franky laughed as she reached for the bill so they could get the fuck out of there and go back to the place where they first met.

_The first time Erica had been to the Velvet Curtain was on business, but the second time was of her own will. She’d nearly flown out of the sultry club after she’d been called there to represent the owner. The whole thing had taken under thirty minutes, but Erica could feel her skin tingling wildly. If she didn’t get out of there soon, she was certain she would get sucked in. As soon as he’d signed the last paper, she’d closed her portfolio and made her way towards the door with her eyes down. She had almost made it out of there when a small slit in the large curtain remained open. The sounds of pure pleasure could be heard lurking on the other side. Erica felt her heartbeat pounding in her ears along with the pulsing in her centre. Her eyes immediately landed on the lithe woman all in black. The woman’s eyes had her sights elsewhere as she tied knot after delicate knot over a nude woman’s breasts. She was stunning as she worked on her masterpiece, and Erica couldn’t help but feast her eyes on the sight from the safety of her spot on the other side. The brunette must have felt the eyes burning her flesh because she glanced up from her work to spot her. She paused her movements with the rope and took a slow step close to the curtain. She didn’t want to frighten the woman, but instead to coax her like a siren to the sailors. Once she’d reached the threshold, she extended her hand out inviting the woman in. Instinct alone caused Erica’s hand to rise and land perfectly inside hers. Just as she was about to cross the barrier when her mind suddenly caught up with her body. She pulled her hand away and dashed rapidly towards the door._  
  
_The second time, she had been hoping to see those eyes again; the eyes that had almost pulled her in. She hadn’t stopped thinking about them for weeks. Often she was waking in the night with visions of them burned behind her lids. She’d even touched herself as her fiance slept beside her to the thought of those muscular tattooed arms. Longing to see them again, she pulled the curtain and bravely peered into the dark den of sin._  
  
_She searched wildly across each different act taking place simultaneously in the room. She felt herself becoming aroused at the overwhelming effect it was having on all her senses. Desperate moans fell on her rushing ears along with the swift smack of bare skin. The air was thick with the smell of sex and leather. Once she was convinced she’d searched every stitch of the room, she’d given up on finding the green eyes. She quickly turned to drown her sorrows at the bar._  
  
_“My, my, Miss Davidson, I did not expect to see you back here again,” a deep voice broke her from her thoughts. She didn’t need to turn around to know that it was the establishments owner. “Are you here on business or pleasure?” He teased as his eyes took in her ample cleavage peeking out of her dress._  
  
_“I was…” she opened her lips to speak, but she quickly realized there was no point in denying it any longer. “The latter.”_  
  
_“Looking for anything in particular?” He asked as a gracious host. He didn’t think he’d ever see the blonde back here, but his apprentice always had such a way with the women._  
  
_Across the room she could feel someone staring behind her back, burning holes in her skin. She turned over her shoulder to find the culprit only to find it was...her approaching. “Have a good time, Erica. Let me know if you need anything,” he winked before disappearing back._  
  
_“Mind if I sit?” the sultry voice cut the air between them as she motioned towards the chair directly beside Erica._  
  
_“Not at all.” Slowly she came to sit beside her, and let her eyes rake over the bonde’s exposed skin. She made no attempt to hide her actions. Erica should have felt violated by the probing looks, but instead it made her skin tingle. The bar area was better lit than the remainder of the club and it allowed her to take in the mystery woman up close. She was dressed in black from head to toe with her tattooed arms on display in her sleeveless top. The two sat quietly as they took each other in._  
  
_“I take it you don’t come often,” the woman with the green eyes noted by the tenseness of Erica’s back. She looked like a frightened animal ready to flee at any moment._  
  
_“I don’t come at all.” she shook her head. This place was not for people like her. And yet, here she was._  
  
_“Well that’s a shame. I could have sworn I’d seen you before.” Did she remember? Was it even possible? Erica had seen the way she worked with the woman and the rope that evening. She surely had plenty of women lining up for her. How could she remember terrified Erica fleeing the scene?_  
  
_“I was…one other time for work. I’m a lawyer.” The honest words were somehow pulled out of her. It was clear that the brunette was a quick read. Normally Erica felt obligated to lie to anyone and everyone to protect herself and her image, but something was different with her._  
  
_“Ohhh, you’re the famous Miss Davidson.” her smile was breathtaking as it spread like wildfire across her face._  
  
_“I’m sorry?” Erica swallowed around the lump developing in her throat._  
  
_“Gavin mentioned you before. He said that your services have come in very handy for him. Said I should look into working with you.”_  
  
_“Do you need a lawyer?”_  
  
_“I need a lot of things. The first of which is your phone number.”_  
  
_“I’m afraid it’s not that easy... I’m straight.” She blushed and turned her eyes down towards the bartop._  
  
_“Now now, Miss Davidson don’t be so uptight.” she laughed. Something about the way that her name poured off of her lips made Erica’s stomach flip._  
  
_“Call me Erica.” Maybe it would help her relax more._  
  
_“What if I like to keep it formal?” Franky was having too much fun batting around her toy._  
  
_“And you are?”_  
  
_“Francesca, but you can call me Franky.” She extended her hand for Erica to shake._  
  
_“It’s nice to meet you, Franky,” she nodded. Franky leaned down and placed a kiss on her hand. Didn’t only creepy old men to that in movies? Normally it would have put her off, but why was it actually working when the smooth brunette did it?_  
  
_“You as well, except we both know that this isn’t the first time we’ve met.” Erica blushed and looked away. She had remembered. “Where’d you run off to last time, little lamb?” She asked with a sly grin. Erica shook her head, refusing to respond to the question entirely._  
  
_“I should go,” she whispered as she stood to rush towards the exit. Her head felt fuzzy. She knew she had to escape before she did something stupid or embarrassing._  
  
_“Hey, wait.” Franky stopped her with an arm around her waist. Erica’s skin was on fire where the woman’s fingers caressed her through the thin material of her dress. “Stay awhile, let me show you around,” she offered with a low, sultry voice._  
  
_“I shouldn’t.” She shook her head. She should be home in bed in her pajamas with a book in her lap. Not parading around some seedy club in search of adventure._  
  
_“But you want to. So which is going to win, Miss Davidson, your will or your desire?” Franky bit down on her bottom lip with those sharp teeth._  
  
_Then without a word of protest, she let the tall woman take her hand and lead her towards the familiar velvet curtain. They slipped inside together and the assault of her senses was back. She found herself staring down to the floor afraid to look up close._  
  
_“You’re missing it,” she said into blonde locks as she pulled the woman into her arms. She was so nervous her body was shaking. Protectively, she wrapped her arm around the woman’s hips pulling her against her front. The closeness somehow calmed Erica’s nerves and she leaned her head back against the brunette’s shoulder. She was soothed by the calming ride and fall of the woman’s breath behind her. Erica knee that she was safe in her arms. “Open your eyes,” Franky whispered hotly against the long line of her neck. She then allowed herself to press her lips to the heated flesh and inhaling the delicious scent of her perfume._  
  
_Instantly her eyes flashed open to take it all in. There were couples in leather, some in extravagant costumes made of latex, and some in absolutely nothing at all. The longer she allowed herself to look, the more grounded she became against Franky’s strong form. The acts taking place around her should have terrified her, but instead they had the opposite effect. She was melting like putty in the woman’s capable hands. What Erica wouldn’t give to have the woman turn her into one of the shows. All the other eyes there to witness how much she wanted it. And although Franky wanted nothing more than to make a spectacle of the woman nestled in her arms, she knew it was not yet the time. Having just drawn the moth to the flame, she needed to proceed with caution._  
  
_“Can I take you home?” she purred into her ear. The invitation was met with a nod because Erica would have followed her anywhere. She was slowly becoming addicted to the feeling of those hands on her skin. She would go anywhere as long as they were there touching her._  
  
_The twenty-five minute drive took only fifteen because of the brunette’s fast driving. She didn’t want to wait a moment longer to see all of the woman in the passenger seat beside her. She let her hand rest on Erica’s bare knee through the slit in her dress, delicately tracing small circles with her thumbnail. Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see the blonde’s legs part allowing her to slide her hand underneath the silky fabric and up her smooth thigh. Heat was radiating off of her centre when Franky’s palm finally cupped over her underwear which were already coated in her arousal. The blonde released a soft moan at the new sensation between her legs and her head fell back against the headrest. Franky’s eyes stayed locked on the road as she pushed the material to the side and let her index finger run the length of her slit._  
  
_“Oh!” Erica gasped as her hips surged forward seeking out the touch. Her hand grasped the armrest of her seat until her knuckles were white. She was beginning to fall under the spell as the touch continued. Just when she started to feel the warmth collecting at the pit of her stomach, it was gone. “No, please,” she begged breathlessly as she thrust her hips forward seeking the touch. Franky smiled and brought her slick fingers to her lips to destroy the evidence._  
  
_“We’re here,” Franky announced as they pulled into the driveway._  
  
_By the time the women had made it inside the house, Franky’s lips were over Erica’s in deep, probing kisses. Her hands fell back to her curvaceous hips as she guided the woman down the corridor. She’d decided on the drive to keep the downstairs room locked until she’d gotten a better handle on Erica. Their energy was impossible to deny. But overwhelming her would do no good if she wanted to explore the chemistry pulsing between them. Instead she pulled the woman upstairs and into her bedroom._  
  
_“I’ve never done anything like this before,” Erica whispered as her cheeks began to blush. She should have been anxious, but something about Franky’s presence made her feel calm and centered._  
  
_“Like what?” Franky asked as she continued to press kisses down her neck and chest. Her hands were already working at dragging the dress’ long zipper down her back. She already knew what the blonde’s response would be, but she knew it was important for her to say the words aloud for herself._  
  
_“Anything...with a woman.”_  
  
_“But you want to,” she finished for her. Straight was the last word that she would use to describe Erica Davidson. After a moment’s hesitation, she nodded._  
  
_“Yes, yes I do.” The quietly uttered admission was all that Franky needed to be set into action. She pulled the straps of the dress down smooth arms and let it cascade on the floor at the woman’s feet. She was dressed in a matching set of black French lace underwear which nearly caused Franky to release a throaty moan._  
  
_“Miss Davidson, you are a dirty girl afterall.” She grinned letting her fingertips run along the thin strip of fabric at her hips. The blonde blushed and hid her face in Franky’s shoulder. Without hesitation, Franky’s hands slid back to firmly grasp the curve of Erica’s arse in her palms. She added in the pressure of her thigh between the woman’s legs eliciting another moan from her guest._  
  
_Erica wasn’t exactly sure how they had gotten to the bed, but before she could search her memory to find out, Franky was on top of her and her fingers were back inside her thong sliding into her slickness with long strokes. The familiar sensation in her stomach returned as the talented fingers continued to play her._  
  
_“W-wait,” she stuttered feeling herself on the edge of climax already. “I-” She tried once more, but before she could finish her thought, she was coming on the woman’s hand. “I didn’t want to finish so quickly,” she panted._  
  
_“Who said we were finished?” Franky’s eyebrows creased as she stayed propped on her arm above the lithe woman beneath her. “Sometimes it helps to take the edge of,” she explained. Her lips were back over Erica’s in a passionate embrace, her tongue seeking entrance so she could soak up every taste of her. She allowed herself to be pulled under the mesmerizing spell that Franky was putting over her. Then her lips were trailing over her neck and chest before she unclasped the lace bra and slid it away. She then took to worshipping the woman’s full breasts alternating her hands and her lips. The touch was so gentle, and it was nothing like Erica had expected from the olive skinned woman. Just when she’d began to relax, she was brought back to the present when she felt a sharp bite to one of her nipples. She gasped and arched herself upwards towards the woman’s mouth. Immediately the pain was soothed over with long laps from her tongue. As they continued explore each other, Franky’s hips began a maddeningly slow grind down. Within a matter of minutes Erica felt hungry once more. She wrapped her arms around Franky’s neck to run into the length of her dark hair. Trying to pull her in and speed up the process, she hooked her leg around the brunette._  
  
_“Tell me what you want me to do,” she demanded as her hips stopped their movement._  
  
_The blonde did her best to pull her in to show her exactly what she wanted, but Franky’s firm palm came to grip her leg and halt her ministrations. “Nice try, Erica, but I believe I gave you an instruction.” Franky pulled back and waited patiently._  
  
_Erica’s heartbeat began to pound in her ears and she suddenly felt like she was under water and unable to breathe. She shook her head as she closed her eyes to shut out everything around her. Franky was asking her to do something that she had never had to do in her life. Erica Davidson did not beg for anything; especially not sex. She was the one being begged. She was the one in control of those exchanges. But here inside Franky’s bedroom, she felt like a completely different person._  
  
_“Hey, come back to me, little lamb,” Franky cooed against her ear as she ran a reassuring hand over her cheek. “Open your eyes, please?” Erica did as she was told and let her blue eyes land on emerald green. “You can do this, I know you can.” She seemed so confident in her abilities even though the blonde was not._  
  
_“I can’t,” she shook her head again. Maybe she was wrong about what she wanted after all. Maybe she should have just gotten a tiny tattoo on her hip instead. She’d let her desires get the better of her once more. It was all so wrong. What was she thinking?_  
  
_“Quit listening to that voice in your head,” Franky caressed her cheek once more. “The one that keeps telling you that this is wrong. You’ve been thinking about it, haven’t you? That’s why you came back there tonight. You faced your fears to get what you wanted, and now here you are. So what are you going to do about it?” Their eyes stayed locked as Erica mulled over the brunette’s brutally honest words._  
  
_“Fuck me,” she breathed out barely above a whisper into her ear. The two words set Franky into action as she let her fingers return between her legs slipping inside her slowly as she began to stroke her smoothly. Erica felt empowered by the fact that her words had given her exactly what she wanted. “Fuck me, Franky,” she said once more louder than before. Franky’s lips trailed down her body until she came to settle herself between Erica’s thighs. Quickly she pulled the thong off and tossed it off the bed giving her complete access to the women’s sex. Soon enough the thrusts of her fingers were back with the added press of a soft kiss to her clitoris. “Oh!” she breathed at the new sensation. She brought her hand down to rest on Franky’s shoulder, begging her to continue._  
  
_“I want you to keep your hands on the headboard, alright?” Franky paused her mouth to give the woman her first command. Lets see what you can do, Miss Davidson._  
  
_“Why?” She asked tentatively._  
  
_“Because I said so,” she responded back with a sharp bite to Erica’s thigh. Nodding, she extended her hands above her elongating the line of her chest. Her hands wrapped around the bars. Once she had down so, Franky’s tongue was back tracing patterns over her sex. It didn’t take long for Erica’s hips to begin their grind downward. Franky’s free hand came to rest on her lower abdomen. “Relax, let me.” So Erica stopped thrusting down like an animal in heat and let herself relax into the touch. Initially it had been rather difficult to do since taking was all she knew how to do in order to get what she wanted. It appeared with Franky she didn’t have to. The woman didn’t need any instruction on how to please her, it came to her naturally. It was as if she’d been destined to fuck Erica Davidson senseless her whole life. So that’s exactly what she didn._  
  
_It hadn’t taken long for Erica’s sex to begin pulsing around those slender fingers. Her legs began to tremble as the foreign sensations washing over her became almost too much to handle. It was like a ball of light had somehow formed inside her abdomen and it was now burning brighter and brighter with each movement of the woman’s agile fingers and tongue. She felt like she was about to be swallowed whole by the pulsing inside her. She wanted desperately to wrap her hand around hers, but she had been given the order to keep her hands on the bars._  
_“Please can I move my hand?” She squeaked out. Green eyes flickered up from their work between her thighs and Franky held out her hand and giving her permission. Erica’s hand shook as she brought it down and laced it into those long fingers. Franky’s lips wrapped around her swollen bud and she curved her fingers expertly and the light exploded inside her shattering her into a million pieces. But it didn’t stop. Again and again she felt something take over her body as she trembled uncontrollably. She gripped the woman’s hand with everything she had as she came again and again with each passing wave. She was panting for air and her vision clouded when Franky’s hand thrust once, twice, three more times inside her and then she was screaming her name._  
  
_Franky was certain that Erica Davidson had never been properly fucked in her life, until now. She was used to taking what she wanted, but soon enough she would learn that she didn’t have to take with her. She was delicious in all of her naivety. She had so much to learn, and Franky was determined to be the perfect teacher. Eventually the blonde’s breathing returned to normal and she relaxed back against the bed once more, the occasional aftershock causing a shiver to take over her body. Instinctively Erica’s hands had flown over her face to hide the tears from the view of her new lover._  
  
_“Hey, what’s going on in there?” Franky brought up a soft throw from the bottom of the bed and carefully draped it over Erica’s naked form. She carefully positioned herself to lay beside the woman. Franky let her hand rest gently against Erica’s wrist as she hid behind the protective layer of her hands. “Erica,” she spoke low. The tone snapped the blonde back to the present and she brought her hands down to rest on her chest. Tears had cascaded down her flushed cheeks._  
  
_“I’m sorry,” she apologized feeling immediately embarrassed by the display of emotion. “I just...that was…” Words suddenly felt impossible as she tried to explain what was going on inside of her._  
  
_“It’s okay, you’ve got nothing to apologize for.” Franky brushed the woman’s tears away with the pads of her thumbs. She then leaned in and placed a gentle kiss to her forehead._  
  
_“I don’t even know why I’m crying,” her voice cracked as the tears continued to fall._  
  
_“It’s because you’ve never been fucked properly in your life until tonight. It can be pretty overwhelming at first. Each time gets a little easier though.” How did she know all of these things that Erica didn’t even know about herself?_  
  
_“This was the only time,” she said firmly. Franky nodded and shifted so the blonde was laying against her chest and her arm was wrapped around her back._  
  
_“If that’s what you want.” the brunette traced her fingernails over her skin gently soothing her. Both of them knew that Erica was lying, but Franky had enough decency not to call her out on her bullshit while she was feeling so fragile. The woman needed time to process what was happening between them. She couldn’t quite understand what made their chemistry so electric just yet. But Franky was patient, and she would show her in time._  
  
_So it didn’t surprise either of them when Erica was back at the Velvet Curtain waiting for her with eager eyes at the bar the next weekend and each weekend after._


	8. Comment faire l'amour

Franky had never seen the appeal to the holidays like the rest of the world. She could never understand why people would make themselves miserable in the dead of the summer heat to drink hot chocolate because of a damn baby being born somewhere in a shack in the middle of fucking nowhere. Although she’d been informally seeing Erica for years, she wasn’t the one going home to the Davidson’s Christmas celebration. She’d initially told herself that she was fine with the arrangement that they’d laid out. Mark and Erica had the domesticity that they both so desperately craved. But what that couple lacked, Franky made up for tenfold. She was the heat that Erica needed.  
  
Franky had just sent her off away on holiday for two weeks taking care to fuck her hard enough to feel it for the days to come; something to tide her over in the land of vanilla sex with Mark Pearson. Meanwhile she had two weeks to find something to do to occupy her time. She never saw client’s over the holidays, knowing that it was much too emotional of a time on its own to add BDSM into the mix. She spent most of her time working out, developing photos, and reading one of the countless books from her shelves. She was now occupying herself with trying to grocery shop in the chaos of holiday shoppers. She fucking hated Christmas.  
  
“Franky?” A voice snapped her from her focused effort of selecting the best sirloin while dodging an old lady’s power scooter. She turned at the sound of her name and saw a tiny blonde carrying grocery basket at her hip with her hand cocked.  
  
“Gidget,” she smiled as the two women moved towards one another, blocking the aisle from the frantic shoppers. Franky gave herself permission to let her eyes rake over Bridget’s body once up and down. She was dressed casually in a tight pair of jeans and cotton t-shirt. Her once long hair had been chopped close bob. “You cut your hair.”  
  
“I did.” Bridget ruffled it slightly which only caused Franky’s jaw to clench as she grippled with her self control.  
  
“It’s sexy. Why aren’t you somewhere celebrating?” She changed the subject for everyone’s safety.  
  
“I could ask you the same question. Where’s…” Bridget immediately stopped herself from finishing her question. Way to go, Bridget, she admonished herself silently.  
  
“She’s home in Sydney for the next two weeks.” Franky didn’t feel angry for the blonde’s curiosity. She was more so just happy to see the petite blonde outside of the four walls of her home. It was nice to know that she existed on the outside, and she grocery shopped. Franky peeked her eyes into the blonde’s basket and tried to hide her shock. The woman had added one of those all in one frozen turkey dinners and a bottle of wine. No, Franky wasn’t going to allow it. “Are you by yourself for the holidays?”  
  
“Yes, my parents went to visit my brother in Auckland. I couldn’t get away from my practice for long, holidays are always a busy time. Besides, I kind of like the downtime.” If Franky would have known that her blonde friend was also biding the time alone, she just may have called her for an emergency session sooner. She shook herself from the images of Bridget strung up dancing in her head like sugar plums.  
  
“Please tell me that’s not your Christmas feast.” Franky glared at her basket once more.  
  
“What? Oh this? They’re actually pretty good if you-” Bridget started to explain when Franky leaned in and abruptly took the frozen brick and ditched it in the display case behind her.  
  
“No. Not letting that happen.” She leaned back to investigate the discarded meal once more. “Turkey, eh?” Franky took the basket from Bridget and put it into her cart. “Please let me cook you dinner. I cannot allow you to eat that for Christmas, even if it is a stupid holiday.”  
  
“Okay.” Bridget knew better than to say no to her domme, even outside of their playroom.  
  
Silently Franky set to work picking out the necessary items for her own version of Bridget’s desired meal; turkey, potatoes, and green beans. Bridget’s contribution was an additional bottle of wine. Once they’d finished shopping, they parted ways briefly, Franky stopping home to grab the essentials she knew would be lacking from Bridget’s kitchen, mainly her knives. Bridget headed home to quickly spot clean her home. Her stovetop had most likely gathered a thin layer of dust that she was not willing to let the skilled brunette see just yet. Bridget texted her address, although, Franky most definitely knew where she lived. She’d looked it up on her way to check on an unreachable Bridget not too long ago.  
  
When she’d arrived at the home, Franky smiled as she took in the quirky space that was just so...Bridget Westfall. Pops of bright color filled the home from lime green to bright red. It was nothing like the smooth gray that she had at home. It could have very easily been overkill, but for some reason it just worked. One similarity their seperate homes had were a wall full of books. Franky held herself back from going to scour the titles.  
  
“What is it?” Bridget asked with a nervous laugh.  
  
“You have books...and a cat.” Franky glanced to see a black cat sleeping in a ball on the couch.  
  
“That’s Felix. He’s kind of a grump, but he’s good company.” Bridget introduce the two before giving the feline a scratch on his head.  
  
“Well I’m sure he’s happy as long as you’re not feeding him those turkey dinners,” Franky teased as she stood awkwardly in the middle of the living space.  
  
“I’m serious they’re not that bad if you-” Bridget tried once more to defend her frozen food loving honor.  
  
“Nope, don’t want to hear it. Speaking of, kitchen?” Franky asked desperate to get her hands on a task to work out the nervous energy inside of her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been in another woman’s home that wasn’t ‘on duty’. If she thought about it too much, it would only make her anxiety levels sky rocket through the roof of the quant home.  
  
“Right here, is there anything I can help you with?” The petite woman led her into the open kitchen. She’d followed instructions and had placed the grocery bags into the fridge which she then went to fetch for Franky.  
  
“How are you with a knife?” Bridget shrugged as Franky rinsed the beans for her to chop while she worked on prepping the turkey breast for the oven. They worked together in comfortable silence. Protectively, Franky kept her eyes on Bridget’s haphazard chopping and how dangerously close the knife blade was coming to her manicured fingernails. “That’s it, stop.” Franky washed her hands of any turkey remains before approaching Bridget’s still form.  
  
“What?” Bridget stood with knife in hand.  
  
“You’re gonna chop off a finger like that. You’re new job is to peel the potatoes,” Franky instructed as she traded Bridget’s knife for a potato peeler.  
  
“I’ve been demoted in my own kitchen?” Bridget fake scoffed.  
  
“Your fingers will thank me. Besides, judging by the amount of pots stored in that oven, it doesn’t get too much of a work out,” Franky fired back.  
  
“Well aren’t you observant.” The blonde chuckled.  
  
“That’s my job.” Franky took over knife detail and quickly trimmed the edges of the green beans before rinsing them once more.  
  
“How did you learn how to do all this?”  
  
“Worked in a lot of kitchens growing up.”  
  
“Well thank you again for doing this. It was unnecessary, but it is nice to have some company. Why aren’t you spending the holidays with your family?” Bridget couldn’t stop her inquiries to the mysterious brunette. It seemed that Franky knew her so well, but she knew nothing of her in return.  
  
“No family, just me,” Franky responded truthfully. “Got taken into foster care when I was fourteen, and then just bounced around until I aged out.”  
  
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Bridget’s heart ached at the thought of a young Franky having to forge her way in the world by herself. Sure, she was strong, but no one should be forced to go it alone.  
  
“Don’t be,” Franky shrugged as she put the seasoned turkey breasts into the oven. “Those will take at least an hour, and the rest can wait.”  
  
“What should we do while we wait?” Bridget finished peeling the last potato.  
  
“I can think of a few things.” The brunette stated slyly.  
  
“Franky…” Bridget could feel a blush creeping up her neck. As she drove home, she’d thought about the possibility of something happening between the two. It had caused her stomach to flutter, but she quickly shook the idea from her head. When had been the last time she’d actually had a woman over to her house?  
  
“Got any board games?” Franky wrinkled her nose as she asked.  
  
“I think I’ve got scrabble?” The petite woman went in search of the game from the small storage chest. She retrieved the box and showed it to her guest.  
  
“You’re going down, Ms. Westfall,” Franky said with a smile as she grabbed the box to set it up on the coffee table.  
  
“I’ll grab the wine.” Bridget disappeared into the kitchen for the bottle and two glasses. 

As the food cooked, the two became enraptured in their game and glasses of wine. Play by play they took the lead, the pair evenly matched in their ability. In time the smell of the turkey permeated the space.  
  
“I’ve got to check on the food. Don’t you dare cheat.” Franky took care to hide her tiles from the blonde’s line of sight.  
  
“Never,” Bridget giggled as she took another sip of her wine.  
  
Franky dashed up from her spot on the couch to check on the turkey. Having reached its desired temperature, she grabbed a pot holder to remove the dish from the oven.  
  
“Shit!” Franky swore, the delicate skin of of her forearm having touched the hot container. She quickly ran the burn under the cool water of the faucet.  
  
“What happened?” Bridget stood after hearing the tall woman’s voice lined with pain.  
  
“I burned myself,” Franky admitted, feeling embarrassed since she was trying to impress the beautiful blonde.  
“Stay there.” Bridget said before going to fetch the first aid kit from the hall closet. “Sit and let me see” Bridget pulled the chair out from her dining table. Franky listened and sat in the seat and offered her throbbing forearm to her. Bridget set to work carefully dabbing the wound dry and applying a burn gel before blowing on it tenderly. She couldn’t contain the slight smile from appearing at the corners of her mouth.  
  
“What?” Franky asked, her eyebrows knit with concern.  
  
“Nothing, it’s just kind of nice taking care of you for a change.” Bridget had to look closely, but she saw the slight hint of pink spreading over Franky’s face.  
  
“You’re ruining my street cred.” And also making me nervous, Franky thought to herself.  
  
“Please, you’re a pussy cat,” Bridget giggled as she finished taking care of Franky’s burn.  
  
“Excuse me? Are you forgetting my room of tricks?” Her spine straightened at the remark. Did Bridget not remember who she was? What she was capable of doing?  
  
“You can’t fool me. That’s just a role you play, it’s not all you are. You’re more than just a Domme.” Bridget stood her ground, placing a hand on her hip. She knew she was approaching dangerous territory, but she walked into the lion’s den with her shoulders back and her head held high. I’m not afraid of you.  
  
“Please don’t psychoanalyze me,” Franky warned firmly, pulling her arm away like a petulant child.  
  
“I promise you, I’m not. If you were just a Domme you wouldn’t have gone out of your way to cook me Christmas dinner.” Franky shrugged in response, unable to think of anything to say. Why had she decided to take it upon herself to spend Christmas Eve with her sub? Had it been out of kindness or had their been some subconscious desire to spend the holiday with someone? She swallowed and pushed down the nagging questions her brain asked.  
  
“We should eat before it gets cold,” she finally changed the subject. She stood to finish the final touches on their Christmas feast before they sat to eat at the table together. Bridget didn’t bring their previous discussion back up, not wanting to scare the brunette away. Instead they kept the conversation geared towards getting to know one another outside of their assigned roles. It turned out Franky was incredibly cheeky with a quick wit to boot, but it turned out Bridget could give just as good as she got.  
  
“You are telling me you have never seen Dirty Dancing? Are you a human being?” Franky’s palm fell on the table loudly.  
  
“Last time I checked, yes. I wouldn’t take you for the sappy romantic type.” The Domme extraordinaires favorite film was a cliché chick flick?  
  
“Why’s that? Because I’m a dyke with tattoos? I’m hurt, Gidge.” Franky placed her hand over her heart in fake shock.  
  
“Frankly yeah, if I’m being honest with you,” she replied truthfully. She knew that there was no point hiding anything from her intuitive dinner companion.  
  
“Well just like you said, I’m more than just a Domme. Besides, every lesbian just wanted to get with Jennifer Gray and be Patrick Swayze.” Franky finished off the last of her wine, and Bridget poured her another glass.  
  
“I guess I’ll just have to take your word for it.”  
  
“Nope. We’ve got a game to finish, and we are watching this movie.” Franky stood from the table, determined to remedy the situation. She reached out to grab their empty plates, but Bridget's hand on her wrist halted her actions.  
  
“Let me. It’s the least I can do after you cooked. It was amazing. Best Christmas meal I’ve had in years.” She stood with the plates in her hands.  
  
“Well, I didn’t have much competition between me and Ms. Marie Callender.”  
  
“Yes. You definitely win,” Bridget finally relented. She’d never be able to return to the same frozen dinners she was used to, not after the meal she had just eaten.  
  
“What was that?” Franky smirked.  
  
“I said you win, now quit being cheeky and go find the movie. I’ll be right there.” Bridget began to wash the cast away plates to be placed into the dishwasher.  
  
“On it.” Franky bounded to the living room, leaving Bridget to clean up.  
  
The two spent the remainder of their evening watching what was one of the most cheesy romantic films Bridget had ever seen. She actually liked it. Between turns at their game, she caught Franky mouthing along to the dialogue of the film. It made her heart flutter inside her chest to see the normally stoic woman reciting the lines perfectly. Eventually they called the game after Franky played the word ‘quirky’ on a triple word score. The film’s title song played in the background as the credits rolled across the screen.  
  
“I should probably head home. It’s getting late.” Franky rubbed her palms over her jean clad thighs uncomfortably.  
  
“Oh, yeah. It is.” Bridget glanced at the clock below the television to see that it had just hit eleven. Where had the time gone? “Are you alright to drive?” She asked noticing their empty wine glasses nearby.  
  
“Thank you for checking, but yes, I’ll be fine,” the brunette promised.  
  
“Are you sure? You can always stay over here if not.” Bridget Westfall, what are you doing? She mentally kicked herself.  
  
“Are you trying to get in my pants, Gidget?” Franky laughed.  
  
“No! I just meant. If you needed. You could,” Bridget stuttered while trying to save face. She could feel the heat rising on her cheeks.  
  
“I’m kidding,” Franky saved her from her embarrassment.  
  
“Oh. Yeah, of course.”  
  
“It’s not like I don’t want to, believe me. It’s just...we can’t. It interferes with our contract.” But fuck if I don’t want to, Franky thought.  
  
“No, you’re right. We shouldn’t.” Bridget nodded curtly, and Franky stood to leave.  
  
“Thank you again for everything. I really appreciate it,” the blonde smiled softly.  
  
“No sweat, I wanted to.”  
  
“Well, drive safely. Text me when you get home.” Bridget escorted Franky the short way to the door and unlocked the deadbolt.  
  
“Okay.”  
  
“Goodnight, Franky,” Bridget said as she reached out to give the tall woman a hug.  
  
“Night, Gidge.” The brunette’s hand migrated to the small of her back, pressing their bodies together. Silently they swayed together, neither one willing to part the warm embrace. Unable to resist any longer, Franky lifted the shorter woman’s chin and leaned in to close the space between their lips. “Fuck it.” She whispered before kissing her deeply. Bridget melted like putty in her arms at the softness of it all. She couldn’t remember a time when they had ever been so gentle to one another. She reached to lace their fingers together before silently leading her down the hall to her own room. Although the pair had seen each other intimately, it somehow felt like the first time. Somehow they had managed to make their way towards the foot of the bed. Their lips continued to explore while Franky’s hands fumbled with garments. Bridget’s shirt was the first to go followed by her black bralette. Before the brunette’s hands could reach Bridget’s jeans, she placed her hands over to halt her actions.  
  
“We can go slow,” she whispered as she peppered Franky’s jawline with kisses. “There’s no rush.” She wrapped her arms around the taller woman as their lips found each other once more in a slow and graceful dance. Any of Franky’s previous sexual encounters had all been fast to put it mildly. She ordinarily operated with her foot pressed to the gas, using her quick expertise to woo any potential lover. She’d never admit that the speed was to distract from any attention being focused solely on her. Although something with Bridget felt different. It was just a small spark, but she could still feel it there just below her sternum. Bridget wasn’t prey anymore, she was an equal. So with this new thought in mind, she allowed herself to slip peacefully under the wave.  
  
Kissing Franky normally left Bridget breathless, but this newfound leisurely exploration was only making her lungs ache more. Panting for air, she pulled Franky’s shirt over her head, leaving her in a thin singlet with her tattoos on display. Wordlessly the two migrated on top of the bed where their dance continued. Bridget lay herself gently down, pressing against Franky’s side as her lips continued down the long line of her neck. As she continued her trail of kisses, her fingertips found the edge of Franky’s singlet and moved to take it off and deposit it with the rest of their discarded clothes. Immediately she was met with the resistance of Franky’s hand over hers.  
  
“Do you want to leave it on?” Bridget whispered into the air between them. She then recalled Franky’s actions in her bedroom and things began to make more sense. She watched patiently as she struggled.  
  
“Yes,” she finally admitted.  
  
“That’s okay,” Bridget reassured. “We can keep it on.” She removed her hand from the hem and instead placed it gently over her hip through the tank top. “Is that okay?” She searched Franky’s green eyes once more.  
  
“Thank you,” she breathed as she pulled Bridget on top of her form. Franky wrapped her arms around her petit waist until her palms came to rest over the swell of her arse and pulled her closer. It only took a few minutes of the slow movement before one of Franky’s hands migrated upwards to cup Bridget’s breast in her palm. Unable to resist, she brought her lips down to wrap around the little bud until it became firm against the wetness of her tongue before biting it between her front teeth.  
  
“Franky,” Bridget half moaned as she continued to work herself down against the jean clad woman beneath her. If she didn’t do something quickly, she’d be swept up and carried away by her agile mouth and fingers once more. Bridget sat up, separating herself from the touch causing Franky’s mouth to form the cutest of pouts she’d ever seen.  
  
“Why’d you stop?”  
  
“Because you’re distracting me.” She blushed. “I can’t explain it, it’s like as soon as your hands are on me all reason leaves my body and I can’t think,” she confessed truthfully.  
  
“So then let me think,” Franky grasped Bridget’s hips and turned her over onto her back, beginning a line of wet kisses over her chest while holding her hands above her head. She sighed as her lips descended once more over her breast nibbling playfully. Think, Bridget, think!  
  
“Jasmine.” Instantly Franky’s lips were gone and her hands were released.  
  
“What’s wrong?” Franky’s eyebrows creased in confusion. She wasn’t used to hearing safe words outside of the dark locked room.  
  
“I just want to be with you...no kink,” Bridget admitted quietly as she cupped the brunette’s cheek. Franky’s teeth bit down on her bottom lip as she contemplated when was the last time she had had sex without being able to hide behind her Madame persona. Her eyes were cast downward, lost in thought until Bridget touched her fingertips underneath her chin. Green eyes flashed up with fear ticked inside. “Where’d you go there?”  
  
“I don’t do vanilla sex,” she whispered. “I don’t know how.” The redness of her olive cheeks was enough of an indication that she was embarrassed to admit the truth.  
  
“Let me show you?” Franky nodded softly. Bridget’s lips were back against hers as she lay her down carefully on the pillows beneath them. Her hands danced gracefully over her the thin layer of her t-shirt, not daring to go underneath. She cupped her ample breasts, squeezing them slightly and eliciting a small exhale of breath from the tense brunette. Bridget continued to bring her lips down over the sharp line of her jaw and down her throat. She peppered a trail of kisses over her collarbones from shoulder to shoulder until she noticed the slight shift upwards in her spine like she was presenting herself silently for more. “Can we take off your jeans?” she asked.  
  
“Yeah.” Franky nodded, granting her permission to unzip her. She lifted her hips to help Bridget slide her pants down her long legs, leaving her in just her boyshorts. Before long her lips were back over her chest dipping lower to her ample cleavage. Bridget pressed herself on top of her body and wrapped one of Franky’s bare legs around her waist. She slowly slipped under the trance that was being put over her body. Unconsciously Franky’s own hands gripped the edge of her shirt where she paused, unsure of how to proceed. “I have scars,” she explained for the first time to a lover. She wasn’t sure why, but she did.  
  
“It’s okay.” Bridget smiled reassuringly. Franky took a deep breath and pulled the garment over her head. Scared to death, her eyes slammed shut and refused to open again, fearful of the look of pity she would surely find on Bridget’s face. Before she knew it, lips were back over her chest, delivering wet kisses over her newly revealed flesh, her hands caressing the sensitive skin of her sides without pausing to stop over her marred skin. Slowly she relaxed again, and opened her eyes.  
  
Bridget’s focus wasn’t even on the raised skin, instead it was still delivering sweet kisses. Smoothly she slipped her palm back to the clasp of her bra. Gracefully she removed the last bit of clothing on her upper body. Franky watched as Bridget’s bright blue eyes roamed her skin briefly before settling back on hers. “You’re so beautiful.” Franky looked down at the words. “Hey, what’s wrong?” Bridget asked, fearful she had overstepped her boundaries.  
  
“Nothing- I just… no one’s ever said that to me before because of these,” she confessed, brushing the pads of her fingers over the gathering of circular scars. Instantly her mind recalled the scent of burning flesh that would never fully leave her. The smell was gone in a matter of moments replaced with the soft lavender of Bridget’s perfume.  
  
“Well they should have.” Bridget bowed her head once more as she began to prove to Franky just how beautiful she really was. Her heart broke at Franky’s revelation. Her lips descended over her breast, bringing her nipple between her lips and teasing it to hardness before switching to the other side. Franky released a slow and shaky breath at the touch.  
  
Bridget then continued her trek by following the line of her sternum towards the taught muscles of her abdomen. Her hands held her sides caressing them gently. Taking a chance, she took a detour to her flank and she brought her lips down over one of the scarred circles. Franky’s breath hitched in her throat as she glanced downward over her body to see Bridget watching her as she took care to bring her lips over every tight bud continuing lower to her hips. Instead of feeling uncomfortable and exposed she felt liberated. Bridget didn’t ignore or rush over the irregular skin, she tenderly took care to make it known it was just as beautiful as it’s smooth counterparts.  
  
Once she had settled down between Franky’s legs, she slid her fingers under the waistband of her underwear. Franky tilted her hips granting her silent permission to remove them. She couldn’t remember the last time, aside from Erica she had been totally nude with a woman, but she wasn’t scared. Bridget used her fingers to help part the delicate folds before allowing her tongue to brush over her. Having spent such a long time on the foreplay, Bridget had found her slick heat to be coated with arousal. Her tongue began to whisper intricate patterns across the sensitive skin. The room was still aside from Franky’s deep sighs of approval.The blonde dragged her tongue upward until it brushed over her clitoris and Franky gasped at the touch. It hadn’t taken long for Bridget’s expertise to bring the brunette’s hips rocking down to meet her. She glanced up the long line of Franky’s body to see her neck extended and her eyelashes touching her cheeks, lids firmly shut. She saw Franky’s hand clenched around the bedsheet as she lost herself in the sweetness of it all. Bridget wasn’t ready to let her go just yet. Instead she slid out of her own underwear and climbed back up to her lover’s face.  
  
Franky’s eyes flashed open but remained heavy at the edges, arousal painted over her face. At just one glance, Bridget’s breath was gone and she had no choice but to kiss her deeply. She straddled one of Franky’s legs, pressing her heat against her, only for both of them to be gasping at the intimate touch.  
  
“Is this okay?” Bridget asked softly as she pressed her own leg against Franky’s centre.  
  
“Yes,” Franky murmured before pulling her closer by the small of her back. Fluidly they allowing their hips to roll together. As the pace ratcheted up, Bridget slipped her hand between them to be able to run the length of her slit. “Please,” she managed to beg against Bridget’s lips. Silently Bridget understood what her desperate plea was for, and she didn’t make her wait a moment longer before sliding the length of one finger inside of her sex. Franky’s head fell back against the pillow and her lips remained open as she melted into the touch. After a few slow strokes, Bridget added another digit and Franky’s hips began rolling down of their own accord. She then brought her lips back to press against Franky’s, breathing each other's air. She matched the rhythm being set all while watching as Franky submitted fully to the ecstasy coursing between them. “I-” was all she could stutter before her body began to tense and Bridget took over. She curled her fingers inside and continued the thrusts of her hips. Seconds later Franky’s body was shaking as the strong orgasm took over while she moaned against Bridget’s mouth. Carefully Bridget waited to extract her hand until several of the pulsing aftershocks had subsided and she lay against the mattress spent and panting for air. She hadn’t even had an opportunity to get her breath back before her arms were up covering her face from view. Franky tried her best to pull in quivering breaths to fill her lungs, but the emotion coursing through her veins was making it impossible.  
  
“Hey, it’s okay.” Bridget soothed her with a gentle caress to the wrist. “Just try to breathe slow,” she reminded before she untangled their limbs from one another to give Franky space to process.  
  
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, wiping her eyes as she tried to rid herself of any remains of tears. Her flushed cheeks burned with embarrassment. She opened her mouth to say more, but suddenly couldn’t put anything she was experiencing into words.  
  
  
“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” Bridget whispered to the woman behind the hands. Slowly Franky brought her hands down to reveal tear stained cheeks and glassy green eyes. Bridget brushed the tears away with her thumbs before leaning in and pressing her forehead against Franky’s. “You’re allowed to have emotions, Franky. Take your time. Just come back down to me when you’re ready, little kite.” Franky smiled at the words, recalling how she’d used the same term on Bridget not too long ago. Carefully the blonde shifted their bodies, pulling Franky to lay her head against her chest as she wrapped her arms around her in a warm embrace.  
  
“I’ve never done anything like that before,” Franky finally whispered as exhaustion settled over her body. She curled up around Bridget’s body like a second skin, relishing the way it felt against hers.  
  
“Made love?” Bridget interpreted her words with expertise. Franky’s mouth paused in thought unable to speak. Instead she nodded against the blonde’s chest, confirming her words silently. “Vanilla’s not that bad after all, is it?” Bridget smiled as she brought her lips to Franky’s in a short kiss. Franky’s tired eyes fell closed before she could respond as she let sleep consume her, feeling safe and at home in Bridget’s arms.


	9. L'amour vers la luxure

By the time Bridget awoke Christmas morning, she expected to see a sleeping brunette curled beside her like a present under a tree. Instead she found the bed cold and empty, the only sign that the space had been occupied was the disheveled sheets. She rose slowly, stretching the sleep from her muscles before she padded quietly down the hallway in search of her, but Franky was nowhere to be found. Bridget frowned as she felt the energy of the home changed, it felt almost empty without the boisterous woman inside of it sharing the space.  
Bridget shook her head and reminded herself of what the reality was; Franky was not her lover. She was...what was she exactly? Whatever it was it was not that of a girlfriend, regardless of what magic they had shared the previous night, or what Bridget had perceived to be magic that is. She sighed and began gathering the discarded wine glasses from the coffee table. Beside the abandoned glasses were a littering of scrabble tiles from her forfeited game. Bridget’s eyes searched for Franky’s winning word to scoff once more, but the tiles had been removed and replaced with a message 

B

New Years?  


F

“Where did she get a question mark?” She muttered under her breath before she noticed the sharpie resting nearby. Her laughter bubbled out of her mouth before she could stop it. The sinking feeling in her stomach was immediately replaced with joy. 

 

Franky arrived back home, she didn’t bother putting her car back into the garage. She planned on changing quickly and heading to the gym to work off some of the nervous energy inside her chest. What had initially started as a spark that she tried to ignore had quickly grown into full on butterflies in her gut, which was completely foreign to the supposed Domme. At that moment she felt like she didn’t have any control, and for the first time it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Bridget had proven that there were times where it was okay to let someone else take the reigns. Had they really made love? Was that even really a thing? Franky had never felt ignorant in the ways of sex, but now she was mentally searching her extensive library on any knowledge about this whole new world she was gently carried into. The real kicker was how much she actually liked it. She’d knocked vanilla sex for years because of the boredom she thought it inflicted upon its havers, but maybe she was wrong. Or maybe she was just overthinking. She took a deep breath and quickly unlocked the front door with her thoughts still racing around her brain.  
  
“There you are.” Franky jumped at the sound of Erica’s voice from her seated position on the couch. How long had she been waiting there for her?  
  
“Fuck, you scared me. What are you doing back?” Franky smiled anxiously, locking the door behind her.  
  
“Client emergency. Figured while I’m back I might as well make the most of it,” Erica answered investigating the pristine French tip of her fingernails.  
  
“Did Mark come back too?”  
  
“Would I be here if he did?” the blonde cocked an eyebrow at the brunette.  
  
“Probably not,” Franky admitted.  
  
“Where were you?” Erica pressed, anxious to know why she wasn’t available when she’d arrived at the home thirty minutes prior. It was rare that she didn’t find her in the home.  
  
“Uh, at a friends house.” It wasn’t technically a lie, Franky reasoned with herself. Bridget was… something, but Franky wasn’t quite sure what just yet. She was somewhere in the space between friend and lover, but she was also a client. Franky knew from the brief exchange between the two blondes at the gala months prior, it was not wise to mention the B word in Erica’s presence, so she omitted the details.  
  
“You don’t have friends, where were you really?” She raised a perfectly sculpted brow.  
  
“I just told you,” Franky scoffed.  
  
“Fine. Aren’t you going to show me how much you missed me?” Erica stood and slinked over to her and wrapped her arms around Franky’s neck.  
  
“Can I grab a shower first? I feel gross.” Although she knew it was unlikely, she did not want to get caught red handed so blatantly cheating on her girl. But was it really technically cheating on Franky’s part if she went home to her future husband every night? It still left her feeling guilty.  
  
“Please, Franky?” Erica put on her signature pout; the one that she knew worked every time.  
  
Erica was sly and Franky was weak, so her desire won out. She followed Erica down the hallway while cupping the firm swell of her arse through her obscenely tight pencil skirt.  
  
“Upstairs,” Franky murmured into her ear. Erica ignored the request, and instead began pawing over Franky’s pockets for the key to her secret room.  
  
“No, down here please,” Erica pleaded as she slipped her hand inside her pocket, locating the culprit and fishing it from its hiding place.  
  
“Where are your manners, Ms. Davidson? Has all that time in the sun gotten to you?” Franky clicked her tongue to admonish her bold behavior.  
  
“Please, Mistress?” Erica held the key up dangling from her index finger as she captured her bottom lip between her teeth. Franky finally relented, and opened the door. Erica took no time in disrobing herself of every stitch of expensive clothing. The experienced sub needed no instruction to fall gracefully onto her knees with her head cast to the floor.  
  
“What should I do with you, hm?”  
  
“Anything you want.”  
  
“Anything?”  
  
“But you better decide fast, I’ve got a flight out this evening.” Erica knew that she shouldn’t speak so boldly inside the room, but the mood that they had set was casual, so she felt that the truth was warranted.  
  
Franky pondered for a moment, moving to lean against the edge of the bed.  
  
“Come here,” She beckoned the nude woman over, who immediately followed orders. Erica was pressing against her in the most lascivious manner Franky had ever seen.  
  
“Please, Mistress.” Erica arched her breasts upwards into Franky’s line of sight, begging her for attention. She obliged, bending down and trailing a row of delicate kisses down her sternum before bringing her lips over one of her already peaked nipples.  
  
“Mmm, harder baby,” Erica moaned with her head back. She brought her hand to the back of Franky’s neck, pulling her in to encourage a firmer touch.  
  
“I didn’t say you could touch, did I?” Franky chastised, lifting Erica up onto the bed and spreading her legs to catch a glimpse of her sex. No matter what, the blonde was always ready for her. She lay her back and let her fingertips glide over smooth skin. Franky tugged her shirt and pants off, leaving them in a heap on the floor as she climbed over her muse. Leisurely Franky kissed her, exploring her mouth while she brought one of Erica’s legs around her waist. Taking a chance, she began a slow grind down. Before too long, Erica’s hips began to buck downwards, attempting to ratchet up the pace.  
  
“Can we slow down a little bit?” Franky whispered as she cupped Erica’s cheek in her palm.  
  
“If I wanted slow and gentle I would have stayed in Sydney,” Erica countered, her straight face unwavering. “What’s gotten into you?” Her blue eyes narrowed on her Domme.  
  
“Nothing.” Franky quickly shook the thought from her mind. Fearing that the line of questioning would continue, she slid her fingers down and entered Erica swiftly. The words stopped and Erica’s mouth fell open as the waves of pleasure shot through her spine.  
  
“Fuck me,” She moaned. Her back arched up off the bed, serving herself up for the taking, ready for Franky to swallow her whole. She increased her thrusts as she felt the walls of Erica’s centre clenching down on her digits. “Please, can I-“ the blonde stuttered desperately.  
  
“Let go,” Franky permitted as she brought Erica into a shuddering climax, just like she’d asked for. The brunette removed her hand after Erica stopped shivering and pressed her body down on top of hers so they were skin to skin.  
  
“That was perfect,” Erica purred. “Turn over so I can take care of you.”  
  
“It’s okay.” For the first time in her life, Franky did not want Erica to return the favor, and she didn’t know why.  
  
“Please, I want to.” Not willing to disappoint her muse, Franky shifted onto her back while Erica slid down and tugged her briefs off. Her tongue lavished over her slit, causing Franky to tense and pull away from the rough touch.  
  
“N-not so rough,” she murmured and gave Erica’s shoulder a tiny squeeze. She obliged, softening her touch for a few minutes before quickly returning to Franky’s normally requested pace. Franky kept her eyes closed, trying to stay in the moment. Her mind kept flashing back to the night before when she was nestled safely in Bridget’s arms. How she had made love to her so tenderly with no other intent. How differently Bridget’s caress was compared to Erica’s. Try as hard as she might, Franky was unable to topple over the edge.  
  
“What’s wrong with you?” Erica finally gave up, sitting back on her haunches.  
  
“Nothing, I dunno. It’s fine. You don’t have to.” Wordlessly, Erica stood and began to dress in her now wrinkled ensemble. Franky sat up, legs hanging over the edge of of the bed.  
  
“Who was she?” Fuck, Franky thought.  
  
“What?”  
  
“I can smell her on you. So who is she?”  
  
“Nobody,” Franky lied with a shake of her head.  
  
“Her perfume smells expensive. Is she a client?”  
  
“No, of course not,” Franky lied again.  
  
“Good because you know that is a direct violation of your contracts. So where’d you meet her?” Erica pressed further.  
  
“I thought we didn’t ask these questions?”  
  
“I feel like I have the right to ask when it interferes with our sex life. Must have been good if you can’t even manage to get off with me.” Erica pulled her skirt back on and tucked the blouse in.  
  
“It’s not like that.” The lies continue to trickle of her tongue as she tried to soothe her beautiful and jealous sub.  
  
“You’re not acting like yourself. You never want to go slow. Is that because your too exhausted from fucking someone else all night?” Erica’s index finger pointed her accusation directly at Franky’s chest.  
  
“Just forget it okay? I just wanted to try something different. It won’t happen again,” Franky’s voice raised as she stood and began to redress without looking at her companion. She needed to separate herself from the blonde before her blood began to really boil.  
  
“I have a flight to catch. I suggest you take care of whatever this is by the time I get back.” Erica turned to exit the room without so much as another glance back.  
  
“Erica, wait.” Franky stood and wrapped her arms around Erica’s waist, preventing her from leaving.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Don’t you think this is a little unfair? You’re angry with me for sleeping with someone and yet you’re flying back to him,” Franky implored softly.  
  
Erica remained silent as she thought.  
  
“Look, I don’t care what you do when I’m gone. I just don’t want it ending up in bed with us, understand?”  
  
“Yeah, sure,” Franky mumbled at the hypocrisy of it all. She then opened the door and waited for Erica to exit before shutting it firmly behind her.  
  
“You can’t blame me for being jealous, can you?” Erica admitted which somehow made Franky feel the slightest bit better. “I’ll try to call, alright? I can’t make any promises though.”  
  
Franky nodded even though she knew the truth. She would most likely hear from Erica in the middle of the night, tucked away in a bathroom and pleading with Franky to speak illicit words into her ear. She often wondered if it was the opening act for something else, warming her up only for her fiancé to take over.  
  
“I love you,” Erica purred as she leaned in to trap Franky’s lips against hers in a deep probing kiss. “I’ll see you soon. Try to stay busy, alright? I worry about you cooped up in here all by yourself.” Erica caressed the delicate skin under Franky’s chin before kissing the spot.  
  
“I’ll be fine. Will you text me when you land?”  
  
“I’ll try.” And Franky knew that that was the best she was going to get, so she accepted it. Because that is what she deserved after all, wasn’t it?

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed. Comments and critiques are always appreciated.


End file.
